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#Directional Sound Transmission
crazydiscostu · 1 year
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Soundpeats Runfree Open Ear Headphones
The IPX4 coating gives me the impression that these headphones could take some significant punishment between sweat and weather abuse.
Today we’re going to delve into the key features, design, comfort, battery life, and sound quality of the Soundpeats RunFree Open Ear Headphones, showcasing why they’re a valuable addition to your active lifestyle. Product supplied for review purposes The Soundpeats RunFree Open Ear Headphones have achieved the prestigious Red Dot Design Award, an accolade that recognizes exceptional design…
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rbbrbikerthorp · 29 days
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A Tribute To Helmets
I grew up during the Apollo space missions, and whilst I didn't show a particular interest in NASA's exploits, I received a kid's space suit and helmet as a present. I vividly recall how different things sounded when I put the helmet over my head. I think that was the point when my kinky fascination for helmets began.
From my childhood, I remember watching an episode of the early Flash Gordon series (in monochrome) where Ming places a helmet on the head of one of his dissenting subordinates. Once the helmet was strapped on, the man became compliant, passive and drone-like.
At that moment I realised that something designed for safety and protection could also have very nefarious uses. Combined with visual and audio stimulation, the helmet could also contain electronic circuitry that can disrupt the natural processes in the brain. Helmets could also contain syringes, which can deliver chemicals and other substances directly into the head to suppress and indivual's throughts.
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So here is my AI tribute to the Helmet, and how, when placed on the head it can strip away emotion, knowledge, purpose and individuality.
This man in his early twenties was just starting out in life. He had dreams of being successful, having the perfect suburban life - wife, kids and the kind of home people dream of. He had just agreed to join a multinational conglomerate, and as part of his induction he was required to take a medical. So on the appropriate day at the specifed time he turns up for what he thought would be a routine appointment.
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On arrival, he was taken into a private room. He was asked to disrobe and was given a set of leathers and boots to wear, which, despite all his reservations he put on.
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Once the leathers were zipped up and boots were on his feet, he was escorted to a room where a lab assistant placed a full-face helmet onto his head. He was then taken into a room filled with tech and video screens. The technician typed some commands into a computer and the helmet activated.
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Isolated wearing the helmet, he was subjected to audio and visual stimulation; stripping away his own throughts and identity. Replacing it with a predetermined 'template', which the company would deploy as necessary. Thoughts of family, kids and friends replaced with absolute loyalty to the company.
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'Physical' completed, the company has deployed him 'into the field'. Now a biker, his primary objective is to ride around and recruit candidates to join the company.
Meanwhile...
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Some scientists are about to record the disruptive effects of their advanced helmets on three 'volunteers'. Once the helmets are fitted the volunteers will follow instructions and head to drone processing.
Elsewhere, two cyclists have been given new 'aerodynamic' helmets for a week to try.
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Affixed to their heads, they will have no desire to ever remove their helmets - ever.
Sticking with a sport theme, the new coach has provided the team with revolutionary and technologically advanced helmets. These not only offer superior protection to the head, but also allow the coach a direct interface into the players' minds. It's going to be a successful season for this team.
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There are worried faced amongst this army platoon - and they should be worried.
They will follow the General's orders to place the helmet on their heads. When they do their individual thoughts will become suppressed as they turn into droned soldiers. No more briefings, no reliance on old technology like radio transmissions, which can be hacked into by the enemy. The helmet will ensure all orders issued by the commanders are transmitted directly into their brains.
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There are changes afoot in civilian life too. A new force for law and order is being created. One by one members of the police force are invited to undergo a routine medical.
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Soon they will all be fitted with helmets; permanently connecting them directly to the company network, with orders transmitted directly into their brains.
There is to be a zero tolerance of crime - even minor misdemeanors. So they begin to 'clean up the streets'.
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Chavs and scallies are rounded up and each one is fitted with a helmet...
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Once the work of the helmet is done, a new 'drone' is sent out onto the streets as a 'recruiter' for the company.
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They're also recruiting in colleges and universities...
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And back in the boardroom, the executives are monitoring progress of the company's plan.
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Each member of the so-called 'C-suite' has been given a helmet to allow speedier decision making and negate the need for laptops, smartphones and video screens. Directly connected to the company's network through their helmet, they follow the instructions fed directly into their brains - following them to the letter. After all each helmet ensures they are exemplary servants of the company.
Hope you enjoyed my AI tribute to the helmet. Depending on the feedback I might do a second helmet blog.
Oh, in case you were wondering which is my favourite helmet, it's my Arai Corser, pictured below.
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pikahlua · 9 months
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MHA Chapter 412 spoilers translations
This week’s initial tentative super rough/literal translations under the cut.
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tagline 迫る崩壊にデクは⁉︎ せまるほうかいにデクは⁉︎ semaru houkai ni DEKU wa!? Deku [faces] the approaching decay!?
1 内側 うちがわ uchigawa Inside [his body],
2 防御に徹して身動きが取れなかった間 ぼうぎょにてっしてみうごきがとれなかったあいだ bougyo ni tesshite miugoki ga torenakatta aida while he was completely unable to move himself in defense,
3 「黒鞭」で無理矢理筋肉を伸縮させ続けた 「5TH」でむりやりきんにくをしんしゅくさせつづけた 「5TH (kanji: kuro muchi)」 de muriyari kinniku wo shinshuku sase tsudzuketa he was able to continue to force his muscles expand and contract with the 5th (read as: Black Whip).
4 筋力限界蓄積「発勁」 きんりょくげんかいちくせき「3RD」 kinryoku genkai chikuseki 「3RD (kanji: hakkei)」 Muscle strength accumulation limit of the 3rd (read as: Fa Jin)
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1 による ni yoru And by doing that...
2-3 風圧発散 ふうあつはっさん fuuatsu Wind Pressure Emanation
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1 デラウェア DERAUEA Delaware
2 スマッシュ SUMASSHU Smash
tagline No.412 史上の最狂のヒーロー 堀越耕平 ナンバー412 しじょうさいきょうのヒーロー ほりこしこうへい NANBAA 412  shijou saikyou no HIIROO   Horikoshi Kouhei No. 412 History's Craziest Hero  Kouhei Horikoshi
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1 ハハッ HAHA "Haha!"
2 極致だな緑谷‼︎ きょくちだなみどりや‼︎ kyokuchi da na Midoriya!! "That's peak*, Midoriya!" *(Note: The word Tomura uses here to describe Izuku's use of his quirks means "ultimate, extreme, pinnacle, acme.")
3 「崩壊」の予測範囲ごと 「ほうかい」のよそくはんいごと 「houkai」 no yosoku han'i goto The entire predicted area of Decay
4 風圧で抉り飛ばしやがった ふうあつでえぐりとばしやがった fuuatsu de eguri tobashiyagatta he gouged out with wind pressure.
5 伝播の媒体自体を減らして でんぱのばいたいじたいをへらして denpa no baitai jitai wo herashite By reducing the medium of transmission itself,
6 進行を限りなく弱体化…! しんこうをかぎりなくじゃくたいか…! shinkou wo kagiri naku jakutaika...! the progress [of Decay] will weaken without limit...!
7 ーーだが --daga "--But"
8 その場凌ぎ! そのばしのぎ! sono bashinogi! "[that's only] a stopgap measure!"
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1 何度でも触れてやるよ なんどでもふれてやるよ nando demo furete yaru yo I'll touch you however many times!
2 土煙が つちけむりが tsuchi kemuri ga The dust cloud
3 散っていかない ちっていかない chitte ikanai isn't dispersing.
4 なるほど‼︎ naruhodo!! "I see!!"
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1 「煙幕」に「変速」"一速"を付与!滞留させる! 「6TH」に「2ND」"ロー"をふよ!たいりゅうさせる! 「6TH (kanji: enmaku)」 ni 「2ND (kanji: hensoku)」 "ROO" wo fuyo! tairyuu saseru! Confer the 2nd's (read as: Gear Shift's) low gear to the 6th (read as: Smokescreen)!
2 視界を遮断して「煙幕」を展開 しかいをしゃだんして「6TH」をてんかい shikai wo shadan shite 「6TH」 wo tenkai To block his vision, deploy the 6th (read as Smokescreen).
3 死柄木の「危��感知」を鳴らし続ける しがらきの「4TH」をならしつづける Shigaraki no 「4TH」 wo narashi tsudzukeru Keep sounding [the alarm] of Shigaraki's 4th (read as: Danger Sense).
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1 その間にーー‼︎ そのあいだにーー‼︎ sono aida ni--!! And in the meantime--!
2 「危機感知」に頼るリスクはよく知ってる! 「4TH」にたよるリスクはよくしってる! 「4TH」 ni tayoru RISUKU wa yoku shitteru! I understand well the risks of relying on the 4th (read as: Danger Sense).
3 "溜め"を作る為にここまで…! "ため"をつくるためにここまで…! "tame" wo tsukuru tame ni koko made...! "All of this to create a stockpile...!"
4 けど…9代目‼︎ けど…9だいめ‼︎ kedo...9daime!! "But...Ninth!!"
5 死柄木は しがらきは Shigaraki wa Shigaraki
6 「サーチ」でこっちがーー‼︎ 「SAACHI」 de kocchi ga--!! [can see you] over here with Search--!!
7 ぐあっ gua "Gwah!"
8 見えてんだけど? みえてんだけど? mietenda kedo? "But I can see you?"
9 位置も いちも ichi mo "Your location, too."
10 弱点も じゃくてんも jakuten mo "And your weaknesses."
11 この目で見た人の情報100人まで丸わかり! この目でみたひとのじょうほう100にんまでまるわかり! kono me de mita hito no jouhou 100nin made maru wakari! I completely know information about up to 100 people I see with these eyes!
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1 おまえ息できてないだろ おまえいきできてないだろ omae iki dekitenai daro "You aren't able to breathe, right?"
2 "変速"の反動‼︎切れた! "へんそく"のはんどう‼︎きれた! "hensoku" no handou!! kireta! "Gear Shift's recoil!! It cut off!"
3 さっきの"溜め攻撃"も さっきの"ためこうげき"も sakki no "tame kougeki" mo "That stockpile attack from before also"
4 そう乱発できるモンじゃないな そうらんぱつできるモンじゃないな sou ranpatsu dekiru MON ja nai na "isn't something you can fire over and over."
5 腱や筋肉を内から直接補強… けんやきんにくをうちからちょくせつほきょう… ken ya kinniku wo uchi kara chokusetsu hokyou... "Direct reinforcement of your tendons and muscles from within..."
6 肌から透けて見える黒鞭が物語ってる はだからすけてみえるそれがものがたってる hada kara sukete mieru sore (kanji: kuro muchi) ga monogatatteru "That (read as: Black Whip) that's transparently visible through your skin tells the story."
7 まともにくらえばさすがに俺も無事ではなかったかもな まともにくらえばさすがにおれもぶじではなかったかもな matomo ni kuraeba sasuga ni ore mo buji de wa nakatta kamo na "If I had taken that [hit] normally, maybe even I wouldn't have been all right."
8 守るもんが多くて大変だなァ緑谷 まもるもんがおおくてたいへんだなァみどりや mamoru mon ga ookute taihen da naA Midoriya "It's tough when there are so many things to protect, right, Midoriya?"
9 …だからって… ...dakara tte... "...I said that's why..."
10 泣いていたあの少年を…諦めはしない…! ないていたあのしょうねんを…あきらめはしない…! naite ita ano shounen wo...akirame wa shinai...! "I won't give up...on that boy who was crying...!"
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1 人は狭い窓から世界を解釈しようとする… ひとはせまいまどからせかいをかいしゃくしようとする… hito wa semai mado kara sekai wo kaishaku shiyou to suru... "People try to interpret the world through a narrow window..."
2 どうなった⁉︎ dou natta!? "What happened!?"
3 見えない みえない mienai "I can't see."
4 遠くに行っちゃった とおくにいっちゃった tooku ni icchatta "They went off far away."
5 理解のできない物事に理由をつくって楽になろうとする りかいのできないものごとにりゆうをつくってらくになろうとする rikai no dekinai monogoto ni riyuu wo tsukutte raku ni narou to suru "They try to make things easier by making up reasons for the things they don't understand."
6-7 おまえは自分の狭い解釈に俺を落とし込みたいだけだ おまえはじぶんのせまいかいしゃくにおれをおとしこみたいだけだ omae wa jibun no semai kaishaku ni "You just want to fit me into your own narrow interpretation."
8 見えてんだろ みえてんだろ mietendaro "You can see it, right?"
9 俺に"幽霊ども"が見えてるように…OFAを通じて俺の中が… おれに"ゆうれいども"がみえてるように…ワン・フォー・オールをつうじておれのなかが… ore ni "yuurei-domo" ga mieteru you ni...WAN FOO OORU wo tsuujite ore no naka ga... "It's like you ghosts can see me...[see] inside me through One For All..."
10 だから煙の中おまえも俺を捕捉できた… だからけむりのなかおまえもおれをほそくできた… dakara kemuri no naka omae mo ore wo hosoku dekita... "That's why you even were able to catch me in the smoke..."
11 しっかり見ろ しっかりみろ shikkari miro "Look carefully."
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1 泣いていた少年はもうとっくに乗り超えた ないていたしょうねんはもうとっくにのりこえた naite ita shounen wa mou tokku ni norikoeta "The boy who was crying already got over it long ago."
2 どこまでも解釈を拡大し どこまでもかいしゃくをかくだいし doko made mo kaishaku wo kakudai shi "I expanded my interpretation without end,"
3 少年は死柄木弔になった! おれはおれになった! ore (kanji: shounen) wa ore (kanji: Shigaraki Tomura) ni natta! "and I (read as: the boy) became me (read as: Tomura Shigaraki)!"
4 俺ぁ何も困っちゃいないんだよ! ��れぁなにもこまっちゃいないんだよ! orea nani mo komacchainainda yo! "I am not in any kind of trouble!" (Note: Tomura means he's not a person who needs to be saved from anything.)
5-6 僕はあの子を救けたい ぼくはあのこをたすけたい boku wa ano ko wo tasuketai (kanji: sukuetai) I want to save that kid!
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1 諦めろ あきらめろ akiramero "Give up."
2-3 救いようの無い人間はいるんだよ出久くん すくいようのないにんげんはいるんだよいずくくん sukuiyou no nai ningen wa irunda yo Izuku-kun "There are people who cannot be saved, Izuku-kun."
4 君の掲げたヒーロー観にとって きみのかかげたヒーローかんにとって kimi no kakageta HIIROO kan ni totte When it comes to your views on heroes,
5 こいつは最大の壁であり こいつはさいだいのかべであり koitsu wa saidai no kabe de ari this guy is the biggest wall.
6 超えなくていい壁だ こえなくていいかべだ koenakute ii kabe da It's a wall you don't have to climb over.
7 一撃で跡形もなく消すしかない いちげきであとかたもなくけすしかない ichigeki de atokata mo naku kesu shika nai "There's no choice but to erase him with one blow until no trace remains."
8 堪えろ出久くん! こらえろいずくくん! koraero Izuku-kun! "Bear with it, Izuku-kun!"
9 溜めろ‼︎さっき以上に! ためろ‼︎さっきいじょうに! tamero!! sakki ijou ni! "[Gather a] stockpile!! Even more than before!"
10 嫌だ… いやだ… iya da... "No..."
11-12 じゃあ何であんな寂しい過去を…心に据えてたんだよ…‼︎ じゃあなんであんなさびしいかこを…こころにすえてたんだよ…‼︎ jaa nande anna sabishii kako wo...kokoro ni suetetanda yo...!! "So then, why [did you fix*] such a lonely past...into your heart...!!" (Note: By "fix" here, Izuku means "place, lay as a foundation." Essentially: "Why is such a lonely past in such a foundational position inside your heart?")
13 蓋を…しただけだろーが… ふたを…しただけだろーが… futa wo...shita dake daroo ga... Literally "A lid...you just put one on, didn't you..." Contextually "You just...covered it all up, didn't you..."
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1 守れなかったモンを見ないフリして まもれなかったモンをみないフリして mamorenakatta MON wo minai FURI shite You pretend not to see those you couldn't protect,
2 傷んだ上から蓋をして いたんだうえからふたをして itanda ue kara futa wo shite and covered up their pain from above. (Note: The official translation of the above two lines is: "You pretended not to see those you couldn't protect and swept their pain under the rug.")
3 その蓋ブッ壊れるまで そのふたブッこわれるまで sono futa BUkkowareru made "Until that cover breaks,"
4 殴るのを止めない なぐるのをやめない naguru no wo yamenai (kanji: tomenai) "I won't stop striking at it."
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1 だから dakara "That's why"
2 反対していたんだ はんたいしていたんだ hantai shite itanda "I reversed [my stance]."
3-4 "宿敵を救けたい"なんてイカレた幻想に俺たちの歩みを委ねるのか? "しゅくてきをたすけたい"なんてイカレたげんそうにおれたちのあゆみをゆだねるのか? "shukuteki wo tasuketai (kanji: sukuetai)" nante IKAREta gensou ni ore-tachi no ayumi wo yudaneru no ka? We’re gonna entrust our footsteps to this crazy fantasy of ‘I want to save our nemesis’?
5 平和ボケした傲慢な考えだと へいわボケしたごうまんなかんがえだと heiwa BOKE shita gouman na kangae da to "It's the arrogant idea of a peace-loving fool."
6 だが裡から見てきて だがうちからみてきて daga uchi kara mite kite But when I began to look within, (Note: It's not clear from these words if Kudou is talking about looking within Izuku or looking within himself. The imagery of the rest of the page could imply that he's looking within Izuku.)
7 わかった wakatta I understood.
8 この少年は このしょうねんは kono shounen wa This boy
9 縋っているのだと すがっているのだと sugatte iru no da to is one who clings [to others].
10 嫌悪すべき人間だろうと けんおすべきにんげんだろうと ken'o subeki ningen darou to Whether it's a person he should hate
11 無個性の人間だろうと むこせいのにんげんだろうと mukosei no ningen darou to or a person who lacks individuality*, *(Note: This word, mukosei, is the MHA world's term for "quirkless," but whenever it means "quirkless," it is written in quotes in the manga. Here the word is not in quotes, so it should mean what the word mukosei normally means in Japanese: "a lack of personality/individuality." I think here the word may be intended to refer to the other kid with the long fingers who also follows Katsuki around.)
12-13 その奥には等しく人の心があるのだと そのおくにはひとしくひとのこころがあるのだと sono oku ni wa hitoshiku hito no kokoro ga aru no da to he is one who [believes that] deep down people have the same* hearts. *(Note: This sentence is awkward to write out in English because the word "same" is actually an adverb in Japanese, like "similarly, equally." It means something like "All people are equal in that they similarly have human hearts.")
14-15 信じたいのだ しんじたいのだ shinjitai no da He is one who wants to trust*. *(Note: This word could also be translated as "wants to believe [in others].") (Update: I now believe this line should be translated as "He is one in whom I want to believe. Please see here for a bit more detail.)
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1 …… "......"
2 キレイ事は…嫌いじゃない キレイごとは…きらいじゃない KIREI goto wa...kirai ja nai "I don't hate...such idealism*." (*Note: This word in Japanese literally means "lip service." This is the same word used by All Might (in a flashback) and Mirio in chapter 367 when talking about how heroes have to talk the talk of positive thinking before making those ideals into a reality.)
3 今から俺の言う通りにしろ いまからおれのいうとおりにしろ ima kara ore no iu toori ni shiro "From now on, do as I say."
4 おまえに賭けるよ9代目 おまえにかけるよ9だいめ omae ni kakeru yo 9daime "[I'll] bet on you, Ninth."
5 OFAを手放すんだ ワン・フォー・オールをてばなすんだ WAN FOO OORU wo tebanasunda Let go of One For All.
tagline 2代目の秘策ーーーしかしそれは… 2だいめのひさくーーーしかしそれは… 2daime no hisaku---shikashi sore wa... The Second's secret plan--but that...
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cynautica · 7 months
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i remembered i can just make stuff up (stream sketches + scrapped designs)
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uhhhh quick fire for the second image from left to right juvenile vessel - old world cable maintenance - artistic diplomat vessel
Headcanons below the cut:
(Im not kidding word counter marked this as a 5 minute reading time open at your own risk)
While the sentiment of the architect network as "a thousand strings in a melody, not one louder than the rest" is a poetic interpretation of the network, it is not necessarily reflective of the precursors society as a whole.
At its peak, the species span billions of planets with billions on billions of individuals, all with their own degrees of autonomy and divergence. If each architect is equal in its power, than it is equal in its power to choose. Even if the soul of an architect, its very essence and its personality, is designed so perfectly that its primary desire is the perpetuation of order and advancement (two inherently divergent concepts), faults occur. Breakages occur. Pockets, cultural subsets, faded transmissions, and any other element of lost insight be it archaic or modern, lends itself to the impossibility of an entirely homogeneous society.
Whether a hive minded society reflects the only means to perfection is debatable, but its important to remember that our main portal in to the precursor world is Al-an, a known prodigy born and raised in to a society that has done nothing but benefit him. His view of his people is intrinsically skewed. He has never had a reason to see beyond the propaganda, nor question his directives. They have never once failed him.
But what of the little guys? The constructed failures so to speak. Those destined to be cast in to the bowels of poisonous cobalt mines and those who's birth purpose is to be irradiated and isolated for the greater good of the collective. Those who's genes prompted sub-standard intelligence who will never be seen as truly important. Their needs must be cast aside by design for the greater good of the collective. By design they must be ignored, their thoughts not relevant to the forwarding of progress.
Because there is true power disparity there is a true hierarchy.
Aware of this, the precursors devised a system of checks and balances to ensure that scientific progress remains at the forefront, rather than the accumulation of power by any individual.
As with all things though, power inevitably seeks to maintain and grow like a cancer.
One such exertion of power comes in the form of a "hive master". These unique individuals require precise expensive machinery in order to be produced, and as such are very rare. The vessels they require are likewise uniquely suited to only these hive masters and their unique ability to sway the voices and personality of any individual connected to the network. They themselves are invisible, completely undetectable except in physical form. Their unique telepathic abilities only work when paired with these vessels. They have no voice nor will of their own and are said to represent architect society on its most basal level.
Given their difficult to produce nature established personalities are very often used in place of new seed combinations. Personalities most suited for repurposing as a hive master include those who are most senior, intelligent, and aligned wholly with societal goals.
They are typically only found on heavily populated planets with more than a few thousand individuals. There they go undetected, like the sound of wind lost in a sea of voices, whose squall directs its very rampage. They are also enlisted for many unique duties on populous planets, such as the refactoring of corrupted individuals and silencing cultural sub-sets.
The average architect probably isn't even aware of the existence of a hive master unless their profession lies in the refactoring and diplomatic processes.
Despite the cultural drive for a monotonous and orderly society, artistic expression is common and encouraged in some sects. All architects possess the desire to express themselves, similarly to humans. Some do this simply with their inbuilt biolights that vary naturally with the individual, while others (less commonly) modify their vessel or design new and unique ones for themselves.
A vessel after all is a costly investment you cant just change like the season, its built to last you a couple thousand years. It's only natural that some seek to don something unique.
This behavior is sometimes detested by more traditional architects, but is not universally frowned upon.
Diplomats are actually encouraged to take on more artistically designed vessels. Often with their respective species' artistic values in mind. They've found greater success with alliances when they don't look like massive sticks in the mud.
Subsets of culture also at times develop unique vessels. Such as an order-over-progress movement that developed on the fringes of the network and preferred pie-bald esque vessels. Alternatively in the past as wars waged between the architects the opposing sides often don differing forms to show their allegiances. In more recent history, a wave of white-clad vigilantes advocated for a complete reset of the old-world collective.
Aside from artistic and affiliation vessels, mainstream precursor society also used a series of varying vessels to reflect personal occupation. Some of the most notable included the warrior vessel, who by design met the largest accommodations of standard architecture for the purposes of intimidation and physical altercations. Al-an's vessel likewise is very common as a heavier-built variant meant to face harsh outer worlds such as 4546B. On base, more light and energy efficient vessels make the dominant force where defense isn't a huge priority.
Microvessels such as those seen above in grey are fairly uncommon despite their energy efficiency. They are most efficient on old world planets that have been in development for hundreds of thousands of years, where the march of time means that not all builders past and present were on the same wavelength and as such small and precise forms mean that construction can be completed with minimal risk to crowded infrastructure.
Another unique and uncommon vessel is that of a juvenile grow-out vessel. These are seldom customized beyond survival needs, and are designed to acclimate a freshly generated architect to the physical world. Like a living vessel, they grow with the individual starting from broodling all the way until young adulthood. They tend to be a bit clumsy and lack the ability to interface with most technology. Always running a blue biolight, these vessels to not require a lot of energy to function physically. A juvenile architect must prove its maturity before it is allowed to graduate in to an adult vessel. This change-out phase is a diplomatic process and one can sometimes wait many years before being approved in to maturity.
The treatment of a new architect varies quite significantly depending on their birthplace and genotype. High performing juveniles are singled out very quickly for better education. Despite the rarity of children in architect society they are not given much importance. A single broodmother may be the ward of up to fifty broodlings, each of which given little attention in favor of allowing them to develop social skills among themselves. Despite architect's seeming infinite power to control resources, broodling mortality is surprisingly high.
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vgilantee · 26 days
Note
I DO I WANNA READ THST
I'm writing this under the assumption that folks have a basic understanding of order 66 but if not... I'll happily ramble!
anyway. pilot!johnny x jedi!reader (also I started this fully with the intention of writing smut but... didn't happen whoops)
~✧
it's a deal made in the heat of the moment. one minute you're tracking a potential separatist leader, the next you are running as hard and fast as you can. whirling your lightsaber as your men, your friends, shoot at you. calling you a traitor, your commander - a man you had shared a drink with not a week prior - shouting orders to shoot to kill.
you blinked hard, clearing the misting in your eyes so you could get as far away as possible.
"Oi, lass!" an accented voice called from your left, through the brush, but you couldn't stop.
"If it's important, run and talk!!" you yelled back, deflecting a shot going in the direction of the voice. you heard a yelp, before much closer footsteps matched your frantic pace.
"So why're they shootin' at ye? Look like a jedi with the lightsaber and all but... they're clones, they shouldnae be shooting at you." the stranger turned and shot over his shoulder, and you tried not to wince as the sound of a body hitting the ground reached you. they were your men, good soldiers and good men.
"I dont... I don't know. my commander he, he got a transmission and suddenly they were trying to kill me!" another shot deflected, another body. "I have no idea what's happening."
out the corner of you eye you saw him nod before he grabbed your hand and tugged.
"this way!" you pulled back, but he didn't let go of your hand. "hen, if ye have more men on yer ship, what makes ye ken they will nae try kill you too? just come with me, I have a ship." you weighed the options. a stranger who is offering you a ship, shooting at your soldiers, former battalion. or the clones you once called friends who were trying to kill you.
"fine." you let him guide you, further into the woodland where the brush grew thicker. he seemed to know where to step, what turns to take, and the sounds of heavy footsteps making chase and blaster fire grew quieter. not enough to stop running - force knew that you couldn't stop until you were at least off this planet, and even then... - but enough that you could lower your lit saber and follow the man who had yet to let go of your hand.
to call what you broke through into a clearing would be an insult to clearings; it looked like this pilot had lowered his ship onto what he perceived to be the weakest trees. and maybe he was right, considering how they had bent and snapped under the small ship.
you didn't stop running until you collapsed onto the deck of the ship, bay door sealing shut behind you.
the hull of the ship was small, a small sunken area you could vault out of and take two paces into the cockpit. the area you could see was mostly clean, but it was clear he occupied this ship alone.
"where to, jedi?" the stranger was not looking at you as he began to take off, the hiss of air as the landing gear retracted and the engines kicked on.
"I-" you cut yourself off as the small ship flew over the landing craft you had been in just that morning. a quiet beeping sound caught your attention and you shuffled around in your pockets and pulled out a secured comlink. a recording of General Kenobi appeared, warning all jedi to stay away from Coruscant.
"I have nowhere to go. if I can't go back to Coruscant, I... that's the only home I've known for a very long time." you dropped into the copilot seat as you realised that the life you had before was simply, gone.
you flinched as a warm, gloved hand lightly touched your arm.
"well first things first, let's get you some clothes. yer whole outfit screams 'jedi' and we cannae have that, can we?"
"no. I suppose not." the ship jolted as it took off into hyperspace, a destination clearly in mind for this stranger. "thank you, by the way. I would be dead without you..." you trailed off, both realising you don't know his name, and because the weight of everything had you defeated.
"Johnny. name's johnny." you reply with your own name and shake his outstretched hand before turning to look back at the racing blue outside. "dinnae worry, hen. things will get better."
~✧
hahahahshaha apparently this ended up being a rough draft for the first chapter for a star wars au whoops!!
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ryttu3k · 1 year
Text
"The question has never been: Can you build cities?
Ants do that.
The question has never been: Are you capable of considering your own existence and getting kind of depressed about it?
Any animal in captivity does that.
The question has never been: Can you use tools?
Crows do that. Otters do that. Apes do that. Good Lord, everybody does that.
The question has never been: Can you perform complex problem solving?
Dogs do that.
The question has never been: Can you experience love?
Nobody doesn’t.
The question has never been: Can you use language?
Parrots and dolphins and cuttlefish do that.
The question has never even been: Do you understand object permanence, can you recognize yourself in the mirror, do you bury your dead, do you bond emotionally with your young?
Elephants do all those things, and some humans definitely don’t.
The only question is this:
Do you have enough empathy and yearning and desperation to connect to others outside yourself and scream into the void in four-part harmony? Enough brainpower and fine motor control and aesthetic ideation to look at feathers and stones and stuff that comes out of a worm’s more unpleasant holes and see gowns, veils, platform heels? Enough sheer style and excess energy to do something that provides no direct, material benefit to your personal survival, that might even mark you out from the pack as shiny, glittery prey, to do it for no other reason than that it rocks?
Everything in the universe has rhythm. Everything pulses to a beat laid down by the Big Bang. Everything feels the drumline of creation from star to sex to song. But can you make that rhythm? In order to create a pop band, the whole apparatus of civilization must be up and running and tapping its toe to the beat. Electricity, poetry, mathematics, sound amplification, textiles, arena architecture, efficient mimetic exchange, dramaturgy, industry, marketing, the bureaucratic classes, cultural critics, audiovisual transmission, special effects, music theory, symbology, metaphor, transportation, banking, enough leisure and excess calories to do anything beyond hunt, all of it, everything.
Can everyone else trust that, if you must declare war and wipe out half a quadrant, you’ll at least write a sad song about it?
Yes?
Well, even that is not quite enough.
Are you kind enough, on your little planet, not to shut that rhythm down? Not to crush underfoot the singers of songs and tellers of tales and wearers of silk? Because it’s monsters who do that. Who extinguish art. Who burn books. Who ban music. Who yell at anyone with ears to turn off that racket. Who cannot see outside themselves clearly enough to sing their truth to the heavens. Do you have enough goodness in your world to let the music play?
Do you have soul?"
- Space Opera, by Catherynne M Valente
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drnikolatesla · 20 days
Text
A Night with Tesla: The Future of Electrical Resonance
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(This narrative is a creative reimagining of a 1901 interview with Nikola Tesla, titled "Tesla's Twentieth-Century Views," originally penned by Frank L. Perry for the Western Electrician. Presented from a first-person perspective, this piece offers a fun and immersive experience while preserving Tesla's original words about resonance and the future of energy.)
Late one Friday evening in January of 1901, I found myself at the Waldorf-Astoria in New York, sitting down with the legendary inventor, Nikola Tesla. The setting was grand, but Tesla seemed entirely focused, undistracted by the opulence around him. I had been eager to ask him about his latest thoughts on the future of electrical energy, particularly the concept of resonance, or as Tesla often referred to it, “electrical tuning.”
With a mix of excitement and curiosity, I asked, “From your own investigations with high-frequency currents and the transmission of electrical energy, it seems that there’s a great future along these lines. Does the question of ‘electrical tuning’ become a most important one? Will this direct the progress of scientific discoveries in the next decade?”
Tesla leaned forward slightly, his eyes bright with conviction. “You have put a question,” he began, “which not only is of great importance in many arts of the present day, but also throughout the mechanism of the universe. The phenomena of sound and light afford striking examples. I believe that ultimately even nerve action will be proven to involve the principles of ‘sympathetic response.’” His thoughts were as bold as they were profound, suggesting that the very nature of life and nerve function operated on the same principles as electrical resonance.
He continued, “In my own experiments with electrical and mechanical vibrations, I’ve been impressed by the tremendous possibilities. With a small engine capable of pressing a piston back and forth with a force of just two pounds, I once set an entire block of modern buildings into such violent swaying that people rushed out terrified. And this was done through precise attunement.”
As he spoke, I found myself captivated by the simplicity of his explanation, despite the staggering implications. Tesla didn’t stop with mechanical resonance. He went on to explain his even more astonishing work in electrical vibration. “In electrical vibration,” he said, “I have frequently obtained results that were even more wonderful. The tuning of electric circuits is becoming increasingly important as the arts advance and methods refine. The layman can only have a vague idea of what can be accomplished in this line by those who possess the knowledge and skill.”
I asked him about this skill—how one could master such an art. “Knowledge of the principles is easy enough to acquire,” he admitted, “and one of the best sources of information on the subject comes from Prof. Pupin, whose work makes it accessible even to a beginner. But skill—now that takes patience and untiring dedication.”
The conversation turned to the challenges of refining electrical circuits for optimal resonance. Tesla explained, “Many experimenters don’t realize that an electrical system cannot vibrate freely through an imperfect contact or high resistance. It’s like trying to get a spring to vibrate while holding it firmly—it simply won’t happen.”
He paused for a moment, as though he was envisioning the future even as he spoke. “The transmission of electrical energy through the earth offers the greatest possibilities of development. The time is not far off when electrical oscillations will speed through the globe, each separate and distinct, fulfilling its mission. It’s a seemingly simple subject, but as you advance, it feels as if the wide ocean is opening up before your eyes.”
As we concluded, Tesla recalled an experiment from five years prior, where he had successfully “tuned” 150 circuits, calling each one in turn without disturbing the others. “At the time, I thought I had mastered the art,” he smiled, “but now I see that I was only just beginning to learn.”
Leaving that evening, I felt that I had been granted a rare glimpse into the mind of a true visionary, a man who saw the universe as a symphony of vibrations, with every element perfectly attuned. What Tesla envisioned wasn’t just a technological future—it was a harmonious one. And as we move further into the twentieth century, I can’t help but wonder how much of his grand vision we’ll soon witness.
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Forget-Me-Not 5
Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Characters: Loki
Summary: You return to your childhood home to put the past to rest.
Part of the Backwoods AU
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.
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You walk out of the bank, tempted to have your lunch at The Horn. You're certain they'd serve it up nice and foamy in a pint. Never the matter, you were never a drinker. Sins of the mother and all that.
You get into the front seat and sit for a minute, contemplating what to do. If you leave the land as it is, burn that shitheap down, drive off into the sunset, well, who will care about what some dead crone owed the bank? That's not how it works. You might think little of shared blood but a name is a name to the powers that be.
You shove your key in the ignition and turn. Your engine cranks and sputters but doesn't roll over. You frown. You just had it serviced before you drove out here. Oils filled, everything was tiptop, so the mechanic said. No lights, no dinging. You try again, twisting harder, but it doesn't catch. You let go as the car quiets.
A slap on the roof makes you jump and you look out the window at the figure right outside. Thor Odinson bends, grinning at you through the glass as he gives a wink. You don't believe in coincidences, especially not in Hammer Ford. You ignore him and give it another go; third time is the charm.
Nothing. Just a puff of exhaust and rattle. Fuck!
"Ah, don't worry, sweetheart," Thor raises his voice so you can hear him through the glass, "I'll take you 'round Vol's--"
"Fuck off," you hit the switch, ensuring the locks are down.
He laughs, "you know, I don't think I ever heard you speak before."
You shake your head and scowl, peering around. Several people watch but quickly put their heads down and continue on their way. Just like it always was. Fucking cowards.
"I see why he likes you--"
"Piss off!" You flip two fingers up in his direction, "now!"
"What? I'm tryna help you out. Sounds like your transmission," he taunts, "or maybe... you got some gravel in the gas tank. Shit, you know, that'll ruin your lines--"
"God! Would you just leave me alone?" You roar as you hit the steering wheel, "you and your fucking family."
"My mother gave me this cheque..." he reaches in his pocket and unfolds a slip, "has your name on it... and would you look at that? She left the amount blank."
You ignore him and grit your teeth. They think you're that girl who could be sold for a sixer and a couple bills. They don't know anything. They don't know you.
You reach over to the glove box and pop it open. You reach inside and take out the bottle of glass cleaner you keep there. You flip the lock up and he steps back, a victorious hum as you open the door just a hair. You aim the nozzle up and spritz him in the eyes.
"Is that clear enough for you!?" You snap the door shut again and thump the lock down with your fist.
He cries out and wipes his eyes furiously. You sneer as you watch him growl and his. He pulls his shirt up to mop at his face and finally stands, blinking furiously. He sends his fist into the glass, shattering it as you yipe. You shield yourself, reading for the next one, but he merely stumbles away.
"You've done it now," he snarls, "just you fucking wait."
"I will be," you holler, "just you come around and see."
He staggers away, groaning as he continues to fuss with his eyes. You watch him in the rearview before you lean back and stare at the lifeless meters in the dashboard. Rest in peace, mom, you left me a whole lot of shit, didn't you?
🏚
You grab the tire iron and leave your car behind. You have no other choice but to make the long trek back to your mother's shack. You get a few looks from passerbys on the main strip, their eyes lingering on the heavy tool in your hand. You're not stupid or weak like them. You're ready to fight back.
You keep your eyes set ahead of you as you crest the first hill. You always hated how this village only ever seemed to be up. You weave around the country roads and turn off into the trees as the sun dips below the treelines. You're tired and sore but not done. You still have a ways to go.
As you come through the canopy that opens to your mother's house, you feel the coolness in the air tingling in your fingers. The chill in your spine is from more than the late cast of a spring afternoon. You grip the iron tight as you stare up at the open door.
You swing around at the kick of a pebble. The iron meets only air as you twirl all the way around. No one's there. You back up, searching the trees. No, someone is there.
A snicker rolls up through the forest. It's him. He's watching you. You won't back down, not this time. You squint into the shadows. Where is that snake?
"Oh my, are we scared?" Loki's hiss crawls up your spine.
You spin again to find another void.
"Don't you remember our game..." he taunts. "Perhaps this time, you might win..."
"Go away!"
"Ten..." He calls out, "nine..."
Your heart races as your eyes tinge. You remember that girl, lost in the trees, listening to him count down, to his pursuit rustling through the leaves behind her. You feel the crash of the ground against your chest and the river water flooding into your mouth. You can't breath as you're trapped beneath another, rutting and ramming, snarling as he snickers in your ear.
"three..." you come back to the present, "two..." you whip around, "one!" You spin the iron and jab it backwards around your side.
He grunts and staggers back as you stumble forward away from his grasp. Loki falters as he grasps his stomach, a clot of red blooming on the inside.
"Shit..." he spreads the fabric, showing the gash. Not deep enough. You hold the iron tighter and raise it again. He chuckles and shakes his head as he looks up at you, "oh darling, you should know by now..." he smirks, "I don't play fair."
Suddenly, you're taken off your feet from behind, a thick arm around your neck and another around your middle. You thrash with tire iron only to be thrown away from the body behind you, hitting a tree so hard you're left breathless. You drop the iron as Loki moves to sweep your feet from under you and Thor brings his foot down onto your chest. You cough as you stare up at the brothers.
Everything stays the same in Hammer Ford.
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oliversrarebooks · 1 month
Text
Augusnippets Day 26: Nightmare
Human Resistance Masterlist
Augusnippets Masterlist
tw: brainwashing, nightmare, restraints, drugging, reverse kidnapping?
Zach was lying awake on the soft cushions of his luxurious sleep pod, warm and cozy and comfortably drowsy. His superior had already given him his medication, but hadn't shut the pod and put him to sleep, so he was allowed to stay awake for a while and just relax.
It was nice, melting into the pod, listening to the soft noises his superior made as he went around the living quarters taking care of this and that. This room of the quarters had a window to the night sky, so he could gaze out at the stars. Tonight, it was raining, and the sound of heavy drops hitting the window joined the usual background noise. His superior's thoughts were in its own language, not directed at him, but their constant presence was a well-loved part of Zach's life now.
He had little to fear and little to worry about. No responsibilities. He was safe and happy, and his superior told him it'd only be a matter of time until his friends were all safe and happy too.
Just as his eyelids started to drift lower, an alarm went off, scaring the hell out of him. It had certainly startled his superior, too, who began punching at his communications unit frantically. Lots of very quick and garbled transmissions were flying. Zach, so relaxed just moments before, felt his fear growing in a way he hadn't felt since his initial processing. He wanted so badly to know what was happening, but didn't want to interrupt his superior when it was obviously occupied with something important.
And then, with no further warning, he was ripped out of his sleep pod. Torn away from safety and comfort and thrust into brightness and noise and pain. Pain that racked his body every day with no relief, anxiety and nausea and confusion taking their toll on him. Uncomfortable restraints. Drugs that made him sick and woozy. Honeyed words that he knew were lies.
Zach's eyes shot open, his body involuntarily pulling at the restraints as he twitched and thrashed. He was lying on a hard cot in a dimly lit room that smelled like antiseptics, the same place he'd been waking up every time he'd managed to sleep.
No amount of hope had delivered him back to his sleep pod yet.
"Are you all right?" The doctor entered the room. "Is there anything you need?"
"Just a nightmare," Zach mumbled.
"A nightmare," she said in a way that was probably intended to be sympathetic. "Do you mind sharing what it was about?"
Zach's brain had cleared enough that he knew telling the truth here would only get him another round of "anti-brainwashing" torture. "It was about the enemy. The day they captured me," he lied, hoping she'd buy it.
"I know that had to be a traumatic day for you," she said. "But on the other hand, I think that's excellent progress. Your mind is learning to see the aliens as our enemies again. You should be proud of yourself for coming this far."
"Yeah," Zach said, his mouth dry. What the hell was wrong with him? He should want his mind restored. He shouldn't be lying to the doctor who was only trying to help him.
But as soon as she'd left the room, Zach closed his eyes and imagined himself in his sleep pod again.
Human Resistance Masterlist
Augusnippets Masterlist
@augusnippets
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ask-granite-pillars · 7 months
Note
[TRANSMISSION REQUEST INBOUND. PARTICIPANTS: Ten Ounces Of Enriched Egg White (ADMIN, URAD), Unit of Radioactive Decay, Granite Pillars Stained By Statuesque Memories Of A Thousand Hands] [Live Broadcast] URAD: Hello? Is this reaching you? URAD: Your communications towers appear to be somewhat degraded. it took several tries to- TEN OUNCES (crosstalk, from out of frame): You degrade my efforts! Several tries and me fixing the formatting, as well. URAD: Several tries and my administrator's assistance in order to get a signal through. Your upkeep seems to be rather neglected, group senior. But I expect that it would be quite difficult to keep one of your age running in the first place. I am told that I should keep an amiable relationship with my group's senior, but I believe that Ten Ounces was more enthusiastic to meet you than I. TEN OUNCES (faint, from out of frame): Granite Pillars Stained By Statuesque Memories Of A Thousand Hands is the oldest surviving iterator, and it would be an honor to learn anything she might still have in her archives. URAD (directed towards indeterminate point to left of frame): As has been true for the past twelve times you have mentioned this. URAD: Truthfully, I do not know what value there is that I can gain from this, besides simply being aware of those above me on my local group's chain of command, but Ten Ounces was quite insistent that we at least try now that your communications are back online- TEN OUNCES (crosstalk, from out of frame): (undecipherable) TEN OUNCES: (very low voice, from bottom corner of frame): Don't say that to your group senior! URAD: -and so, here we are. Hello. I am Unit of Radioactive Decay. It is nice to meet you.
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Oh, I remember this broadcast very well! We met (properly, at least- I did work on their genome and construction plans before they were activated fully) long after I had already grown obsolete. Unit of Radioactive Decay is the second-oldest in our local group, and I consider us to be good friends, research partners, and distant neighbors.
[BROADCAST TRANSCRIPT]
GP: Do I know you?
GP: Silent Embrace of Leaves? Is that you?
URAD: Your name data appears to be out of date.
URAD: To a nearly comical degree.
URAD: As of four thousand, three hundred, and twenty-six cycles ago, it is Unit of Radioactive Decay.
GP: Oh. 
GP: It’s been a long, long time since I’ve seen you last- my apologies.
GP: It’s a pleasure to meet you once more!
GP: Have you been doing well?
TEN OUNCES: Um.
URAD: Have you been maintained... at all... in the cycles since you were constructed?
GP: Ha!
GP: Not much, these days! 
GP: I’m far out of date, as you can undoubtedly tell.
URAD: It shows.
GP: Would you believe that I put in a request for the repair of my communications systems over a thousand cycles ago?
GP: And yet, here I am, as my communications remain in this tragic state… my greatest gratitudes to your administrator for managing to connect us at all!
URAD: Your administrators sound very inefficient. Are you sure that you have technicians? If your memories are in the state they seem to be, you may have been sending your requests to the inbox of someone who has already moved on.
URAD: You should check your active staff. It would be very inefficient to make your current administrators comb through the emails of their predecessors.
GP: Perhaps I should...
GP: Ah, it's such a hassle to deal with seasonal administrators.
GP: I was never meant to have to deal with a city, and you'd think my administrators would be able to work around that...
GP: Sigh.
[The broadcast continues for some time as iterators Granite Pillars Stained By Statuesque Memories Of A Thousand Hands and Unit Of Radioactive Decay continue to exchange words.]
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Sleepyhead, part four
the plot is: you fall ill and alsator takes care of you, you find out your new powers and test them on someone who hasn't slept for several days
part one, part two, part three, part four
warnings: none
*. ⋆ ✧.·:·.* ☽ ・ 。゚・ ☾ *.·:·.✧ *. ⋆
“Look there!” Whispered Angel to Husk, waving his hand in the farthest side of the room, in the direction where the Radio Demon sat on the sofa with you lying on his laps. His one hand held a book and the other one found its comfort somewhere in your hair. He scratched your scalp and played with your soft locks, twirling your curls around his digit and then let them go. In your afterlife you had the most enviable curls in all seven rings. They never tangled and were as soft as silk. They actually looked like a cloud, referencing your favourite activity from your life — having your head in the clouds.
Alastor adored playing with your hair.
Husk looked up in your direction, and Angel continued, “Is this fuckin’ normal?!”
“Absolutely not.”
They were talking in an undertone, for Alastor banned everyone from making noise in the room where you were sleeping, so since your arrival to the Hotel, this place became much quieter. Mostly part of the day some rooms of the Hotel were submerged only with sleepy silence and low voices or whispers.
Angel took a sip from his glass, still staring at you both. Alastor didn't take his hand from your hair, as his shadow turned the page. His palm went lower to caress the side of your head with his thumb and then came back to your crown. From their places Angel and Husk couldn't see how sweet you smiled in your dream.
Angel turned to the bartender again. The expression on his face was hardly understandable: he was frowning yet smiling with some shade of mockery.
“I tell ya, there must be somethin’ more than jus' sleepin’ on his lap. There's no way I believe that Smiles lets her do it for free.” His golden fang glittered in the smirk, “And I mean not a hell-overlord way.”
Husk was drying the glasses until they squeaked, but his gaze was still focused at your tiny figure on Alastor's legs. Surely it was incredible, almost unnaturally, that his boss let you not just touch him, but even rest your head on his lap and embrace him. And not only during your sleep Alastor let you invite his personal space. He was a real sucker for your presence and all the physical signs of it, so he allowed you to hold his hand, embrace him from his back, you shared your mugs and…
But before Husk remembered other sights of attention, you and Alastor showed each other, he looked at Angel, “What do you mean?”
“You see, Whiskers,” Angel leaned forward, so the fur on his chest pressed against the bar counter. He lowered his voice, so his secretive whisper was barely heard even by his interlocutor, “I saw her sneakin’ to his room! At night! With a pillow!”
Husk wasn't impressed with this statement, making Angel throw his four hands in the air and exclaim in loud whisper,
“Do ya’ think it's okay?! She sleeps all fuckin’ day long, she can't do the same thing in his bedroom at night!”
“She had a pillow.” Husk answered in deadpan.
“So what, Kitty? There's a lot more to a pillow than just sleeping on it," He said with a suggestive smile.
Suddenly the radio on the counter turned on, filling the space with the loud crackle of interference. The radio dial didn’t point to any particular wave, and an acute sound of an untuned transmission broke out from the speakers. From surprise Angel covered his ears, and Husk twitched when the crackling became louder. It seemed that the sound was creeping into their heads, intending to deafen them from the inside. As harshly as it started the sound lowered, and only the quiet static remained, crackling displeased and irritated. And then they heard a voice,
“Gentelmen, if you value your peaceful sleep at night, I can assure you that another little whisper from your side may put an end to this.”
And then a merry piano melody played from the radio.
Husk frowned at Alastor, who had put aside the book and held his microphone cane near his lips now with a satisfied grin.
Angel raised his head with a low moan and uncovered his ears. He gave Husk even more crooked smirk, as it was saying “See? I tell ya! The man wouldn’t be so obsessed without a good ho-”
But his silent suggestive statement was interrupted when Husk rolled his eyes, as if he said, “I really don't fuckin’ care and, palese, shut up.”
Angel's wide smile spoke, “Trust me, I sense such things a mile away.”
*. ⋆ ✧.·:·.* ☽ ・ 。゚・ ☾ *.·:·.✧ *. ⋆
You'd just changed your pyjamas and sat at the edge of Alastor's bed. Your bed. You watched how Alastor prepared himself for the overlord meeting. It was later than usual, and you were upset that this night you would meet alone. Alastor adjusted his suit, tied a bowtie, and with a wave of his hand appeared his cane which he thuted against the floor.
“Will you come back?” You pronounced downcast.
Alastor gave you a bemused look, “Dear, I will definitely come back.” He headed for bed, stopping in front of you.
“When will you come back? At what time? That was what I meant.” You cringed slightly, understanding how desperately and hopelessly sounded your first question.
Alastor smirked kindly, coming closer to you. “You don't have to wait for me, my little star. You can go to bed whenever you want to.” His thumb drew tenderly the circles around the flashing stars on your cheek. You closed your eyes, like every time when Alastor touched your face. The feeling, you dreamt about in your life and never had, had become reality in your afterlife.
“I don't want to sleep without you,” You mumbled and stifled a yawn, “You know, when I was alive I had pleasant dreams, but since I've been here my dreams have changed.” Alastor tilted his head, awaiting till you continue, because at the end of your sentence you couldn't stifle another yawn. “Aaahh. Sorry.” He softly chuckled, sitting down next to you. “So. Since I've been here I dream about reality. I see what is happening around me while I'm asleep. I see everything and feel everything as if I was awake. But it’s also like a movie… I see everything from the outside, in a third person view, you know.” You tried to find more similes to convey your experiences more clearly. You smiled when Alastor nodded his head understandingly and you continued, “So when we sleep I see us. So it's simply not interesting to sleep without you. I mean, what will I see? Myself?”
You scoffed at your last statement, but you didn't overlooked how Alastor's gaze softened at the word ‘us’. He leaned forward then, closer to you, and a wistful smile covered his lips at your last words.
“I understand, dear,” His hand reached to your head and petted you. You knew Alastor loved to own others’ personal space just to piss people off, but it was evident that with you there was something different. He just couldn't keep his hands behind his back, craving to touch you more and more, and every touch was softer and gentler than previous.
“But don't force yourself, dearest.” He placed a sweet kiss on your forehead and held his gaze on your face, admiring all the new bright stars shining after his touch. “I'll be back as soon as possible."
* ☽ ・ 。゚・ ☾ *
When the door closed and you heard Alastor's steps echoing in the corridor, a deep sigh escaped your lips. Your heart gripped strong when you heard the last muffed steps, and you fell on your back on bed.
What to do now?
Not many ideas ran through your drowsy mind: read that book, listen to the records, sleep, bayou, movie night with Angel, sleep, go to the bar to Husk, sleep, sleep, sleep…
You harshly sat up, shaking your head and chasing your slumber away. No sleep.
You sat in silence, staring at the bright flame in the fireplace.
What was that thought?
You turned your head to the left and looked at the bayou.
The large tall trees silhouetted in the dark blue shadows of the night. The mist covered the ground in thin feather-like clouds, seeming cold and soft to the touch. Small golden lights swirled above the grass, illuminating the dark landscape, turning the uncanny scenery into something almost fairy-tale. A cool breeze fanned your whole body, bringing the night sounds of the forest to your hearing.
For a long time you wanted to explore that forest, but Alastor didn't recommend you do it. Especially alone. To satisfy your curiosity you had dinner there together and made strolls, but never went too deep into the woods. Alastor said it was dangerous, but when you objected, weren’t you safe next to him, Alastor said, physically it was, but mentally it was unlikely.
In the bayou dwelled the things that were not meant for your eyes. He didn't want you to see the creatures there, to face the powers piercing through the air. And you believed him, especially after the night when you were woken up from a bloodcurdling growl which seemed was coming from the depth of the forest. It took Alastor hundreds of words of reassurance that the noise was just your bad dream, and not a something from the woods, from which even a fence, let alone a wall didn't protect you. Did you believe him then? Hardly. But weighting your thoughts you decided to trust him, that nothing could cross the line of the parquet and hurt you. Moreover Alastor's arms embraced you so tight they felt like aegis.
You stood up, put on your slippers and came to the edge of the quarters you shared with Alastor only at night. The wind blew again, taking you in its cold embrace and making you shiver. You glanced back in search of something warm you could take with you.
* ☽ ・ 。゚・ ☾ *
The toes of your slippers sank in the wet grass, but when the wind attacked you again you didn't even frown, just wrapped yourself tighter in Alastor's dressing gown. Raising your hands hidden in long sleeves, you inhaled his scent. Alastor left his dressing gown on the armchair in front of the fireplace, so it took all the warmth and smell it could only take. The smell of burnt woods, fur, and his specific scent. You breathed it all in your lungs, making a step into the bayou.
With slow steps you moved forward, embracing yourself by your shoulders and stroking the maroon velvet of the dressing gown. You were not afraid or scared, but you were a tad confused with a strange feeling that led you ahead. You looked up and saw the night sky, the real night sky of dark blue colour. The little stars were barely seen through the long branches of conifers, although you still didn't came to the trees.
Time after time you glanced back to be sure you hadn't lost sight of the room. Your dwelling quaintly stood out against the dark landscape, illuminating the nearest area with soft orange light of candles and the fireplace. It looked cozy, welcoming, benign. The empty bed held your gaze, but you turned away and headed for the cypresses again, stepping out of the light of the room.
A long yawn. The coolness of the night made you more sleepy.
Now you reached the first trees, and the room seemed smaller now, but still visible and bright. You could go further.
Carefully watching under your feet to avoid puddles and roots, you edged your way somewhere when you suddenly froze.
You went deep enough into the woods to be embraced by the blue shadows of the night. The yellow shape of the bedroom shining behind your back turned up very small, but it didn't bother you. Now only you and the night existed. You stood in the glade, with your feet sunk in the moist grass and your head thrown back. You admired the sky. The dark blue vault of heaven seemed like a velvet studded with diamonds which were the stars.
You threw your head back to see more of the sky and suddenly felt like something pushed you back. You took a step behind and looked back, but there was nobody. Maybe you threw your head back too much and lost the balance. You looked in the sky again.
The stars slightly quivered but were bright and big, and you could see how the new stars lit up just before your eyes. So it wasn't a mirage? Not just a trick of Alastor's magic? This sky was real. It was like something that could exist in the real world, something from the living world. As if Alastor put out his memories like a filmstrip and put them into a projector to reminisce about his past life, back to the time when he enjoyed life and the night sky of Louisiana.
He still enjoyed it, for this sky, the roof of his home, was still here.
Suddenly something touched your shoulders. Somebody's cold light arms fell on your shoulders and slipped down, squeezing your palms. They isappeared.
Then somebody quickly embraced you from the left, but it disappeared as fast as it came.
And then you saw a shadow in front of you. The black blot stood out against the befogged blue background ten feet from you. It began to come closer, but you didn't move, feeling yourself hypnotized. When the shadow swam up closer, you saw that it had a trembling white outline around itself, and you finally recognized the figure.
Charlie?
As soon as you discerned the shadow it moved faster to you and hung heavily on your neck, making you sit at the stones near you. You felt tiredness. Another pair of hands touched you, this time from your back. You felt they caressing your back, and then saw another black and white silhouette beside you. Its four arms squeezed you tight.
New shadows with familiar shapes appeared around you and every one of them folded its arms around you, making your eyelids heavier and clearing your mind from thoughts.
Your body was getting heavier, you wanted to lie down, surrender to these shadows and the night, fall asleep forever in this coolness and in these arms.
A new silhouette glimpsed before your eyes and its touch to your cheek felt the warmest.
The world sunk into the darkness…
*. ⋆ ✧.·:·.* ☽ ・ 。゚・ ☾ *.·:·.✧ *. ⋆
During the meeting Alastor had a feeling that something had happened in the bayou. A cold vibrant wave ran through his body that told him that something affected his magic. Something interacted with him. Something from the woods. Had something happened to you? What if you revealed your powers and couldn't manage with them? For Alastor knew you had them. Otherwise how could he explain that intoxicating slumber, that even he couldn't overcome, that occupied the Hotel since your coming?
The fleetingness of the premonition, the way it faded as quickly as it arose, calmed him down a little. But he was still worried. So the moment when the last concluding remarks slipped from Carmila's tongue, Alastor quickly said goodbye to Rosie and vanished in the shadows.
When Alastor appeared through the shadows in the bedroom it was empty. No sight of you in the bed or in the armchair. He checked the bathroom, but it was empty too. He glanced at the bayou.
“What a naughty girl.” He pronounced with a thin sharp-toothed smile, approaching the forest. He still couldn't see even a silhouette of you, but the feeling of someone's presence was strong, and he moved forward, “Didn't I tell her not to go deep?”
When Alastor came up to the glade, the farthest safe area, from which it was barely possible to distinguish the light pouring from the bedroom through the dark tree trunks, he thought out all the possible punishments for a self-willed girl like you. Perhaps, he had to acquaint you with the beast from the swamp, from a distance of course. Or to lead you into that cave with a bloodthirsty creature and let you listen to its gloomy song. Maybe then you would learn to listen to him?
Alastor leaned over your lying figure on the stones. You lay on your belly, arms outstretched forward, as if you tried to embrace the hard surface. Moss served you as your pillow, and several green pieces stuck in your hair. Your slippers almost slid down, and your bare feet buried in the wet grass.
“Oh, darling,” Alastor frowned, understanding in what state you'd find yourself the next day after sleeping on those stones on a chilly night. He had no doubt you could catch a cold, so without hesitation he wrapped you better in his robe and hoisted you.
His eyes didn't leave your face when he was making his way through the forest back to the bedroom. You were in a very deep sleep, your head lay limp on your chest, and uncharacteristically for you your hands didn't even try to embrace Alastor. You didn't murmur anything, didn't press yourself closer to him, didn't smile. You seemed dead, and only the way your chest fell and rose heavily gave away your breath and life. Alastor pressed you closer to him, so your nose bumped against his cheek, and he hoped that the heat of his body could warm you.
Alastor put you in bed on the side that was further from the bayou. He took off the dressing gown, which was damp because of the mist (how long had you been there?), and took off your slippers. Your feet were terribly cold, and Alastor hesitated to find warm socks for you. Then he removed the stuck moss from your hair, wrapped you in a blanket and lay nearby, covering both of you with another blanket.
You lay like in a cocoon, and Alastor held you close to him. In the morning he would ask you what had happened in the bayou, why you had gone so deep in the woods, why you had chosen stones as your bed, and what you had dreamt about. He pushed the hair out of your face, and remained his palm on your crown. The stars on your face were not as bright as usual.
Tomorrow. Everything would become clear tomorrow.
*. ⋆ ✧.·:·.* ☽ ・ 。゚・ ☾ *.·:·.✧ *. ⋆
Your head was heavy, as if your skull was filled with stones, your limbs ached, and you felt heat and cold at the same time. You tried to swallow and twitched, as if you tried to swallow glass.
You fell ill.
You slowly raised your heavy eyelids and blinked several times to see something through the blurred vision. The familiar outline of a man with red hair and big fluffy ears leaned over you, and you felt your cheek was caressed.
“Morning, dear. How do you feel?” You heard the crackling of a static superimposed on a low voice. Finally your vision went back to normal, and you saw a pair of crimson worried eyes peering at you. “Darling?”
“I'm hot… ” You mumbled in a weak voice and wanted to tell about your headache, but the ached in your throat was merciless.
“Well, I’ll remove this duvet, but the blanket must remain,” Answered Alastor, pushing away the soft comforter on the other side of the bed. Then he looked at you, “Perhaps, we should settle you more comfy? Let me, dear.” He adjusted your pillow, so you could sit, leaning against the headboard. “Is it better now?”
You nodded. His eyes scanned your tired face.
“Ohh, such a poor thing,” He said in feignes pitiful tone, “And she’s paying double for not obeying me.”
Suffering expression appeared on your face. You were absolutely not ready to listen to his reproof, when all you wanted was death sleep. But you didn't have time to reply him as he continued,
“But we shall discuss it when you recover, my dear. For now you need rest.”
The words didn't sound scoffing and he looked at you with softness, with sympathy.
Your whole body felt broken, breathing became a burden with a stuffy nose, every swallow seemed a torture, and even your eyes, too watery, we're aching.
“What is my temperature?”
Alastor leaned forward, pressing to your cheek and gently cupping your face. Your cheeks touched and for the first time his skin felt colder than yours. His breath tickled the skin near your ear when he whispered,
“It's pretty high, dear, but nothing serious.” He said, leaning back, “I believe with proper care you'll be great just in a few days! Of course if you follow my recommendations and comply with bed rest.” He said with a playful smile and you couldn't hold your smile back.
“Guess it won't be a problem for me.”
“Splendid!” Alastor threw up his hands causing a chuckle from you. “Well, darling, how about breakfast?”
You winced at the thought of putting something in your mouth, chewing it and swallowing, letting it be inside of your exhausted body.
“Now now my dear, don't grimace at me like that, I won't feed you forcedly.” He chuckled and took a mug from the bedside table. “Drink it for a start. Darling, don't frown at me,” He almost sang these words, “ This will make you feel better, I promise.”
Alastor brought the mug to your lips and you took the first sip. The warm and tasty broth somehow made you feel a little bit better. Alastor let you drink it slowly and just as much as you could take. You thanked him when you drank a half of the mug. Alastor rewarded you with a soft smile and a satisfied “Mmm, it's a pleasure to me to feed you, dearest."
Alastor tucked the blanket around you and stilled, leaning over you. His eyes glowed with the soft red light on you, and you wondered again how rude and how wrong were other residents calling him a monster, when this man showed you his solicitude so many times and in so many ways.
“Now, my little star, close your eyes and sleep. It is the best medicine for you now.” Your eyelids drooped, and you felt a tender touch to your cheek. His thumb made circles around your temple, causing a pleasant trembling through all your body. “Sleep well.”
*. ⋆ ✧.·:·.* ☽ ・ 。゚・ ☾ *.·:·.✧ *. ⋆
During your sickness you slept more than usual, if that was even possible. Your ‘dreaming’ vision came back to you, and you saw all the care and all the attention given to you. Alastor didn't trust anyone to take care of you, so he was the only one who cooked for you, wiped off your sweat with a cold towel, brought you medicines. Alastor preferred the old way of treating and wanted to cure you just how his dear mother cured him, but you and Charlie insisted that pills wouldn't make you feel worse, but speed up the healing process, so he had to give in.
Every time you opened your eyes, you saw Alastor sitting on the chair near your bed. He fed you porridge with forest berries in the morning, broth for lunch and in the evening you drank your favourite bilberry tea whilst Alastor drank his coffee, telling you about his earth life and his mother, for he knew how much you enjoyed his voice and how much you liked these stories. The tea warmed your body and soothed your aching throat . Thanks to the medicine that Charlie gave you you were able to breathe again, so you slowly breathed into your lungs the sweet scent of bilberry that always made you feel a tad more sleepy. And when your eyelids drooped and you fell asleep, listening to the dear crackling of statics, you still saw Alastor watching you. He never left you when you were awake, caring to fulfill your every desire, measuring your temperature with the touch of his palm or lips against your forehead, heartening you and himself that with everyday you looked stronger and healthier.
* ☽ ・ 。゚・ ☾ *
“I think I’m healthy.” You said on the sixth day of bed rest.
“Is it so, darling?” Alastor put the book he read on his lap and touched your cheek with the back of his palm, then it slowly followed to your forehead. His palm stayed on your head for several seconds, and then he cupped your face again, pressing his lips to your forehead. With a soft smile he said, “It's almost fine. I believe tomorrow you will be tiptop.”
You were still for a while. Alastor returned to the book. Finally you said, “I want to tell you something.” His eyes fixed on your face again. “It's about the bayou.”
“Ahh, dear, I would be happy to listen to you, although I have some thoughts on this matter.”
“Really? Um, okay. Honestly, I don't know why I went there, I felt like something was beckoning me. Maybe it was the night, I don't know.” You looked at Alastor, remembering how real the sky was,” This forest is from the living world, right?”
Alastor nodded his head, “Yes, my dear, it is. The landscape, the firmament, even the weather, all of these are straight from where I grew up.”
“Louisiana.” You said with a smile, and Alastor nodded in response, answering you with a melancholic smile,
“Indeed, darling. Louisiana.”
You couldn’t help but be surprised and envy how devoted he was to his home — a feeling completely unfamiliar to you. But his stories about that place, several local tales and legends he told you while you were sick, made you feel like it was your home too. Alastor could tell you about the things dear to him with such love, that you began to feel the same even though you never had them. You loved his hometown, loved his mother, loved his radio broadcast. He gave you a home that you never had when you were alive.
“Well. When I looked at the sky, the very beautiful sky, I felt like I was embraced. I looked around but nobody was near, and then I felt it again. I saw shadows, they circled around me, appearing and disappearing again and again. But I know whose shadows these were.” You drew a circle in the air with your forefinger,” All the people from the hotel. And then those shadows just fell on me, still holding me in their arms. And it seemed that they did they same that all of you do when I sleep. Like caressing me, embracing, playing with my hair,” You glanced at Alastor with a sly smile, “But that feeling was so… I don't even know. The feeling was so strong, I passed out. Oh, and during that sleep I didn't see anything, didn't even feel. For the first time my eyes were closed, and all I saw was darkness.”
Alastor tapped his chin with his forefinger, considering your words. You sat in silence, waiting for his response.
“As I presumed, my dear, your powers have awakened. It always seemed to me that you are able to do more than just seeing what is happening around you during sleep and making others drowsy. Perhaps you can even deliberately make others sleepy and control the depth of their sleep, hmm? We should look into this.”
“As for the bayou, I believe my vigour and yours collided there, causing a small but powerful interaction between our magical powers. I can control shadows, in fact I have hundreds of them under my command, and you, apparently, can not only put yourself and others to sleep, but you also can endow your memories with your powers by embodying them, in a literal sense.”
“So, you summoned the phantom of our princess from your memories, and a shadow from my control immediately appeared, which took on its shape and became tangible. Then you transferred your vigour of putting to sleep to this phantom, and it repeated the same actions that were kept in your memory.”
“It wasn't just the collision and the subsequent unification of our powers that caused your faint. This was your first experience of using such powerful sorcery and of course you got tired, moreover you used your own soporific spells on yourself. That's why you fell into such a deep sleep right where you were, on the stones.”
You blinked. And blinked again, digesting his words. After two minutes of silence, during which Alastor stared at you, you said, “Okaaay. Guess, it's the right diagnosis.”
“Darling,” Alastor said with a reproachfully look, “I’ve been studying magic since I was alive, so I'm quite an expert at this-”
“I have no doubt!” You interrupted him, understanding that your words sounded not like you wanted to, “I believe you, Alastor, I didn't want my words to sound sarcastic. I trust you. It's just so strange to… have powers. And such strange powers.”
“As strange as it is, it's also potent.” He said with a tilt of his head and a mischievous toothy smile. You thought that he could be actually interested in your new found powers. “But don't worry about it now, darling!”
He stood up and turned off the lamp on your bedside table, so the fireplace was the only source of light, excluding his gleaming eyes. “It's time to sleep, my dear.”
“Wait, where are you going?” You exclaimed when Alastor turned back to you and headed for the door. He turned his head to you. “During my sickness I didn't see you sleeping. Never. “
“My darling, I can decide by myself how much sleep I need. For the moment I don't feel any need, but I do have some business that must be done. Don't worry, my little star.” He bent down and left a kiss on your forehead. “Goodnight.” And then you were left alone.
Of course Alastor could talk about this nonsense of never-feeling-need-of-sleep, but the shadows under his eyes were darker than usual, and his posture wasn't as straight as always.
He supposed you could advisedly make others sleepy and even control the depth of their sleep. In fact you always did it but never knowingly. Maybe you could try?..
* ☽ ・ 。゚・ ☾ *
When Alastor returned it was the dead of night, and the fire in the fireplace had gone out long ago, so only the reddish coals hardly shone. You were awake but kept your eyes closed. You didn't see Alastor and could rely only on the noisy static which followed him whenever he went. The sound crossed the room and stopped at the left side of the bed. You heard a sigh, and the static became louder for a second. Keeping your eyes closed in the darkness without falling asleep was extremely hard for a sleepyhead like you, but keeping your breathe slowly and deep as an asleep person was even harder.
You heard a rustling sound and a quiet ‘click’, after which the darkness behind your eyelids took a dark reddish hue. Alastor probably lit the fireplace. Why did he always sleep with an alight fire?
You heard the blanket lifting and felt the weight on the other side of bed. Some more rustling, as Alastor tried to make himself more comfortable. You whispered something unintelligible, imitating yourself sleeping, and felt the gaze. Alastor was the only one whose eyes on you you could actually feel. Sometimes studying, sometimes intent, sometimes disapproving and sometimes thrilling. Now it was concerning.
You didn't move.
Suddenly you felt his arms embracing you and pressing you closer to him. His chin rested on the crown of your head and you could feel his breath in your hair. Did he finally decide to have a rest?
His arms held yours, fingers intertwined. You could feel with your back how his chest slowly went up and down with every breath. His one leg lay between yours, and with your bare foot you could feel the fur on his shin. Every time Alastor embraced you during the sleep, you couldn't help but think that sometimes he held you like a child holding his plush toy.
Even if he really decided to listen to you, you wanted to be sure that his sleep would be good.
You concentrated on your own breath, on your thoughts to vanish every one of them, and eventually you controlled the somnolence souring in the air.
Alastor's body relaxed and you opened your eyes, understanding that he actually fell asleep. And you did this.
You slightly gasped when his grasp tightened, and Alastor pressed you even closer to his chest, hiding his face in the curve between your shoulder and neck. Yes, just like a plush toy.
*. ⋆ ✧.·:·.* ☽ ・ 。゚・ ☾ *.·:·.✧ *. ⋆
When you woke up Alastor still held you close and tight. His one hand was on your hip and the other one, which you used as a pillow, held your palm. A pleasant wave of vibration ran through your body, caused by Alastor's breath with statics. You woke up earlier than him for the first time in your afterlife. You wondered what time was it?
Alastor breathed deep and calm, but you knew it was just because of your spell. You would remove it, but only when he'd get enough sleep and when you would wash yourself up. But when you tried to remove his hands from your hip, his palm slipped higher to your waist and pulled you closer to him. His other hand let go of your wrist, and now two of his hands held you so ever firm by your sides.
Well, maybe a few more minutes of sleep wouldn't hurt?
But when you closed your eyes and stayed in your lying position for a little more, you understood that you didn't feel drowsy. Not at all.
You glanced at the clock, maybe it was the time to wake Alastor and get out of bed? But the clock hands shocked you even more than your lack of drowsiness.
5:05 am.
You had doubts whether you'd even seen such a time on the clocks in your life. Could you had enough sleep during the period of your sickness and now you didn't feel any urge to sleep? Improbably. Then maybe it was a side effect of your spell?
Maybe it was another question you need to discuss with Alastor. For now you wanted to go to the bathroom and not disturb Alastor's sleep. But how to make him let you go without awakening him? He held you so firmly.
Maybe with another spell?
The strong hands loosened their grip and relaxed, when you made Alastor's sleep deeper. You quickly and quietly left bed and disappeared behind the door of the bathroom.
When you returned to the bedroom you were astonished by what you saw. The bright sun from the bayou poured the room with pale yellowish light. Its rays already reached the bed and now illuminated the one who slept there. The sun coloured Alastor's bhair in ruby red, slightly pinkish, and his expression looked uncharacteristically soft with that small lip-closed smile. He lay across the bed, bringing his legs close to his belly. His head lay on the place where you were lying several minutes ago, and his ears twitched from time to time. He outstretched his arms forward, as if he was trying to find something to hold, but all his hands could squeeze was an edge of the blanket.
Your heart melted at this sight. He looked so innocent with that soft sunlight on his face and knees pressing to his stomach. He looked like a young deer lying in the glade and basking in the sun.
You sat on the edge of bed and ran your fingers through his soft hair. You touched the velvet of his antlers and went higher to his ears. You removed your spell and you could actually see how his expression changed into something more familiar. You kept scratching his ears and you needed all your strength to stifle your chuckle, when he smiled wider and turned over on his back, lifting one of his hoofed legs. If he only had a tail, you were sure, it would wag against the sheets right now.
Two hours passed; you had read the book just to where Alastor left off and was looking at him. The sight was too sweet and you wondered if he felt the same, watching you sleep. But it was the time Alastor usually got up (if he went to bed) and maybe even a little later. The spell was long forgotten, and it was his natural sleep, the one he needed so long and refused even longer.
You gently touched his cheek, the gesture which his mother used to wake him up, and you saw his eyelids trembling. He slowly opened his eyes and blinked a couple of times. You didn't take your hand away, waiting until he woke up completely. And only when his gaze traced to your face, you lifted your hand to his antlers to gently tap them.
“Good morning, sleepyhead,” You whispered, giving him your softest smile.
Alastor stared at you and slowly half-rose, leaning against the headboard. Your hand fell on his shoulder. Alastor rubbed his eyes and said, turning his head to you, “Sleepyhead?”
You chuckled and answered, “I woke up earlier than you, now it's your name hahaha!”
“Ha ha ha” He mimicked your laughter. The innocence of just waking up fawn vanished, being replaced with the stubbornness of a sarcastic deer, “I don't actually remember if I asked you lulling me to sleep.”
His peering look didn't frightened you even for a moment as you quickly repulsed his attack, “Maybe you didn't asked to, but you needed it, Alastor. And don't argue with me, this morning is just lovely.”
After a few seconds of silence Alastor said, “Well then,” He put his head on your shoulder, admiring the bright stars on your face, “Should I thank you?”
“It would be nice.”
“Thank you.” A kiss on your neck. And then another one under your ear. And one more on your temple. And then he whispered softly in your ear, “But never do this again without my permission, dear.”
He grinned widely at you, and you swallowed, saying, “Okay.”
“Good girl,” He left a peck on your crown, making the already bright stars shone even brighter, “Now, my early-bird,” He exclaimed cheerfully, “Others might have been waiting for us, don't you think?”
“It's still too early,” You yawned widely and loudly.
“My my, is it my lovely sleepyhead returned?”
You wanted to joke that it was all his fault, because before he woke up you were absolutely fine, but another yawn attacked your mouth and you were forced to cover it with your palm, your other hand waved him something with irritation.
Alastor laughed and pulled you to him, so your head bumped into his chest. His palm appeared on the top of your head and he stroked your hair. You felt warmth flowing through all your limbs, and you felt yourself the same star demon, that always eagered to sleep, and that always found her comfort in somebody's arms.
“Did I wish you ‘goodnight’?” Alastor asked with a chuckle as you leaned closer to Alastor, listening to his heartbeat and soft crackle of statics.
“No. But you didn't say ‘good morning’ either.” You mumbled. The sleep was so close to you. Were you really going to go back to sleep two hours after waking up?
“My apologies, darling. Good morning.”
Well, in these arms why not fall asleep?
*. ⋆ ✧.·:·.* ☽ ・ 。゚・ ☾ *.·:·.✧ *. ⋆
@dollupofdaisy2019 @girl-nahh-two @christinebloodwrittings @serapinaxx @millierose2010
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hirocimacruiser · 1 month
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■Civic Type R VS. Pulsar VZ-R・NI Ver.II
What is the difference between the two?
=TEXT /Monobu Takehira
The Pulsar V Z-R N1 version II debuted as the most powerful NA 1.6L.
In this class, we cannot forget the Civic Type R. Its high potential and pure sports qualities have been featured many times in our tests.
Not only races, but rallies,
the Civic Type R is a big hit
His abilities are widely acknowledged by everyone.
So what are the differences between these two cars, which one is more attractive, and which one is worth buying? I think this sums up the points of interest to readers.
Pulsar VZ-R NI Dirt track and gymkhana A cars (numbered categories)
Version II (hereinafter referred to as N-version)
and Civic Type R (hereinafter referred to as Type R.
The base models of the N1and Type R are the Pulsar VZ-R and Civic SIR, respectively. It's easy to compare the two cars, but the N1 version and Type R are completely different.
First of all, the engine is noteworthy, but the N-version is superior in both performance and excitement. Compared to the N-version with 200ps/18.5kgm, the Type R has a record of 185/16.3kgm. There is a clear difference in the specs, but the same can be said about the physical sensation when driving.
However, the Type R engine is no joke. It is full of racing know-how, and with special specifications, it has the potential to easily exceed 200ps if you sacrifice a little drivability. The high-revving power that easily exceeds 8000 rpm, VTEC is activated and the excitement of the sound and the sudden change in sound are just the thing to get excited about. However, the N-version is still superior to the Type R, which is impressive. However, when it comes to the completeness and sportiness of a sports model, the Type R is the winner. The N-version certainly has a lot of tuning, but it doesn't have as much work done on the body and chassis as the Type R.
In addition, the Type R is equipped with a cross transmission, quick shift, strengthened brakes, a helical LSD, and power steering tuning, all of which improve the driving performance.
The position of the brake pedal and accelerator pedal have been improved to make heel-and-toe easier.
This shows just how much the Type R is a model that focuses on driving. In fact, when comparing the two models, the difference is clear. The steering, brakes and shift controls have a very direct feel, and the suspension on the highly rigid body also shows excellent road contact. It may be a cliché, but the driving experience of the Type R is truly one of "being one with the car." The direct feel and linear driving experience provide high driving pleasure.
The best engine is definitely N-type, but the Type R is better in terms of driving perfection and sportiness. However, if the N-version is polished in the same way as the Type R, it will be a great sports car.
He has the qualities to be a great leader.
In conclusion, the Type R is more attractive. The deciding factor is that it is about 700,000 yen cheaper than the N-version. What's more, it's also nice that it's not a limited production. If the N-version establishes mass production technology for the engine it should be cheaper.
There is a difference of about 700,000 yen in price, but the Civic comes with options such as air conditioning, power windows, and mirrors (177,000 yen). The Pulsar comes with air conditioning as standard equipment, and a set of sunroof, power windows, etc. costs 130,000 yen.
Pulsar VZ-R 2,698,000 yen II
CThere is a difference of about 700,000 yen in price, but the Civic comes with options such as air conditioning, power windows, and mirrors (177,000 yen). The Pulsar comes with air conditioning as standard equipment, and a set of sunroof, power windows, etc. costs 130,000 yen.
Pulsar VZ-R 2,698,000 yen II
Civic Type R 1,998,000 yenivic Type R 1,998,000 yen
PIC CAPTIONS
Pulsar VZ-R N1 Ver. II
Compared to the previous N1, the car's height has been lowered by 15 mm and the tire size has been changed, resulting in a significant improvement in driving performance. The car also features seats with the same shape as the GT-R.
civic type r
Although it is not as powerful as the N1 Version II, it still delivers 185ps. The revs and power feel are comparable to the Pulsar. Fully equipped with Recaro and other features, it's under 2 million yen!
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legacygirlingreen · 27 days
Text
Peace || Captain Rex x OFC
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Pairing: Captain Rex X Original Female Character (Mae Killough); mentions @leenabb104104 's AU verse including Aiko x Echo, Tech x Leena, Wrecker x Chori
Word Count: 7k
Warnings: mentions of former injury, mentions of former clone death, brief mentions of order 66 (but only if you squint), mentions of unnamed character in labor, brief allusions to abusive childhood -- all that said its mostly VERY sweet/wholesome vibes in the midst of some introspection
AN: Hi friends! So some of you may know, but I've been doing some collaborating with my friend @leenabb104104 ! This is a short oneshot for her Pabu AU introducing Mae, the doctor on the island! It can be read independantly or separately! Overall it's just a sweet, wholesome meet cute for her and a particular captian whom we all know and love... If you wish to see Mae's intro on her account you can find it HERE and if you'd like to read about her being the MOH during her OFC Aiko and Echo's wedding that is HERE! Anyways, hope you like it. Don't be afraid to comment, and if you prefer the AO3 link that's here...
MASTERLIST
Rex always tried his best to never eavesdrop on Echo’s conversations with Aiko when possible. Despite introducing the pair, he respected their privacy. However, it was hard to not overhear portions of their conversation as they were both sharing the bridge of the small transport ship. 
“We are headed back, shouldn’t be more than a few hours before Rex drops me off-” Echo reassured the woman when a loud swoosh and bang interrupted the background noise of the transmission. Rex turned his head, watching as the pale blue image of the woman’s head turned in the direction of the noise on her end. 
“What’s wrong?” she asked kindly and with concern, as she immediately sensed the tension rolling off her roommate. 
“Labor. Can’t leave. Medical supplies-” came the fragmented words over the transmission.
“She sounds flustered,” Echo pointed out with a chuckle, and for a rare moment, Rex leaned in to hear more of the plight concerning Aiko’s friend. Rex knew the Empath, seeing as he met her before Echo, but had yet to formally meet Mae - the resident Doctor on Pabu.  In fact, he’d made it his mission to never linger on the island: always dropping Echo off quickly and returning to one of the facilities he’d help install for the clones they’d rescued. 
Rex watched as Aiko opened her arms up and the outline of a woman collapsed into her lap without warning over the blurry imagery. “I need to head back, I just ran home to get some clothes to change into later,” she groaned, audio cutting out slightly from the position of her mouth pressed into Aiko’s neck. 
“What if I knew someone off-world who could grab the supplies for you? Would that relieve some of the stress?” she asked the doctor nodded, sitting as she reached for the large clip at the back of her head holding back her hair. 
Rex watched the blurry image of curls springing loose almost cartoonishly the second they were released. “Depends on how trustworthy this person may be,” she said septically, hands raking through the curls as she quickly wound it all back up and into a respectable bun. Despite having her back turned on the transmission, he was still amazed hair could be that long and take up that much space. Not that he’d really even thought about it until now. It was just, well, hair. From all his years in combat such a thing he determined to be a nuance for himself personally, opting to keep it short and more importantly, practical. However, that didn’t stop him from wondering what color the doctor’s might be in real life-
“Echo can. You can handle it, can’t you darlin?” she asked, turning her attention once more to the holopad as the woman whipped around abruptly.
Her features were slightly distorted by the transmission, so he couldn’t exactly make out the true shape of her nose or tell complexion beyond simply pale. Certain details were absent such as how long her eyelashes were or if she had freckles. But what he could see was that her eyes were large and wide and hidden behind comically sized frames. Lips pulled into a shocked expression, but still very plush and full. Fair with a sharpness to her features. Softness hidden beneath high cheekbones. Despite the poor image quality, it still wasn’t hard to determine she was stunning.
“Oh! Sorry! Didn’t mean to interrupt. I need to head back anyways! Like I said, patient in labor-” she responded, abruptly standing and moving slightly out of the recording device 's ability to see. 
“Mae, slow down-” 
“Yes?” She whipped around as Aiko once again pointed at the transmitter raising an eyebrow. 
“Don’t you need to tell Echo-” 
“The supplies. Right! I will have AZI send coordinates since he normally goes with me to get them. Thank you Echo! Tell your Captain I am so sorry for any inconvenience the additional pitstop may bring” she smiled and rushed off before either could get a word in. 
Rex hardly imagined that she even got a real glance at the mirroring image of the transmitter. If she had, she'd have seen him barely in the corner of the image alongside Echo, and wouldn’t need to mention the apology directed at him. Hearing such a concern made him feel those light stirring sensations that began in the pit of his stomach and crawled their way up his sternum before settling along his neck. It made Rex wonder if she knew much about him in general. Obviously, she allowed Aiko into her home. She must be familiar with Echo’s frequency of departures to assist him and the other clones. That meant that she likely knew something. And yet,here he was without even the first clue of her beyond the fact that the empath lived with and befriended the woman.
Silence lingered as no one spoke at the doctor's hurried departure. Eventually Rex cleared his throat, as not speaking for the majority of the flight had caused it to grow coarse.  Intending to ask Echo, however with the audio received on Aiko’s end as well as he asked, “Is she uh, always like that-” 
The pair in unison spoke the confirmation that yes, the resident doctor was indeed comparably chaotic majority of the time. Only allowing a light nod before turning back to the distant transmitter, knowing that they would receive information about the drop soon, he once again remained silent. Rex didn’t listen to the end of their conversation, preferring to once again tune them out for privacy. 
He wasn’t sure why seeing the frazzled woman with glasses so large they rivaled Tech’s goggles to be such a perplexing sight. Perhaps it was the fact that he’d mentally assumed a doctor who opened her home to Aiko to be… more mature? Older even. Not someone physically close to his own age that’s for sure. Could it be the apparent loneliness that he continually shoved down, but more recently found himself acknowledging with Echo’s transmission home, was revving its nasty head again?
He’d be remiss to deny that the longing hadn’t always been there. Maybe it was always there. Something that existed inside of Jango’s DNA so strongly that the longnecks couldn’t work it out. It was feasible it resulted from his injury on Saleucami, meeting Cut and Suu with their children. And Rex would continually tell himself that he didn’t need what the man had, or even the 99 boys had found on the island. Rex had his brothers and a mission and that was enough… right?  Regardless, he couldn’t deny that it had been a long while since he’d actually had time to be with a woman. 
As of recently the only women he saw were those already engaged in various relationships with his brothers, contacts to assist with assignments, friends like the Martell sisters or Senator Chuci. All of which were unobtainable or didn’t turn his head quite the same way-
“You sure it’s not a bother to make an additional pit stop?” Echo asked him, Rex turning to realize that Aiko had ended the transmission. 
“No, not at all?” He posed it more like a question than a statement as Echo raised a brow. Only humming in response. Meanwhile, Echo glanced at the way his friend straightened his posture, adjusting his collar slightly before pinning his eyes at the hyperspace lane ahead of them, as if it suddenly became the most interesting sight in the galaxy. 
“Remind me again, but are your plans while I am back on Pabu for a few days?” Echo asked. 
“Wait to see if my contact gets more information on that prison in the outer rim. Catch up on manuals. Keep the others in line. The usual” he shrugged simply. Rex often felt that to spend time on Pabu was to impose on the relaxing life that Clone Force 99 had built for themselves. All the boys finding their own personal… distractions. With the kind of line of work he had, and the responsibilities he felt to his brothers trapped with the Empire, such distractions were a hazard.  It’s why he continued to put a mental block around such relations.
“You know, you are always welcome to spend downtime on Pabu-” 
“No, no, that’s your home-” 
“You have to recharge sometime-”
“I can recharge back at our satellite facility-”
“By the time you get there and come back it’ll be a waste of fuel,”
“Still, I don’t want to impose-” 
“Rex, we go way back,” Echo said with a sigh, the new hand attachment gripping his brows as he massaged his temples, struggling to find the words to say. 
“Pabu is your home Echo. I don’t mind making an additional pit stop to help out someone who does a lot of good for the community where you boys hang up your armor, but that doesn’t mean I need to stick around to see it through,” Deep down Rex knew that lingering and getting cordial with a pretty doctor wasn’t a good idea. Besides, if she was nearly as busy as Echo often explained, he imagined she felt similarly. As stunning as she was, she likely had her pick of the clones residing there. What if she already had-
“Are you listening to me?” he heard Echo ask with a huff. Rex knew there was no sense in lying so he shook his head. 
“One or two days will not kill you. Besides we both know that the likelihood that anyone gets us pressing information on that prison is slim to none. It’s a waste of fuel. Plus the others keep hounding me about how you are doing, so this will get them off my back. Especially Aiko. I think she’s worried about you,” Echo said with a playful smirk.
“Why on earth would she be worried about me?” He quirked a dark eyebrow, tension dissipating as the conversation turned more jovial instead of loaded. 
“She’s concerned you are lonely and overworking yourself. And in case you forgot, I am actually incapable of lying to her,” Echo reminded the Captain. 
“You just had to fall for an empath,” Rex shook his head. Fuel was also expensive and the leave on principle wasn’t exactly a valid or rational decision. Slowly feeling himself won over, as a few days to just sleep and remove himself from the worry would be good for his health. He continued to feel the fatigue every day when he rose and the second he slid back onto his bunk. Time was wearing him in ways he didn’t like to acknowledge. Starting in that crick in his back, and ending with the lingering tightness in his neck and shoulders.
“Hey now, need I remind you that you are the one who introduced said Empath to me?” Echo once again interrupted the train of thought as a slight beep indicated coordinates to his right. Looking down he saw it was already on the way, and wouldn’t put them very long out of the anticipated arrival. 
“Fine, it’s my fault. I accept full responsibility. 2 days as punishment. That’s all you get.” He threw up his palms in mock surrender as Echo simply rolled his eyes. Sarcasm. That was one thing that he’d blame on the Jedi for teaching Rex. The thought twisting in his stomach for a moment when he realized that General Skywalker was likely gone like the others. It made him nauseous to think about. Echo brushed off the thought as quickly as it came over him.
“Some sun may do you good brother. Got the coordinates?” And with a nod of the head, before setting the navigation system, they were off to make a small pickup. 
In his head Rex could justify the stop. After all, it was to help a woman who dedicated herself to helping others. And that was a sentiment he understood well. 
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.
In a galaxy full of war, disease, famine, and just about every horrible atrocity imaginable, being a doctor meant dealing with many unpleasant sights. And sounds. Sometimes even smells. 
So when the rare occurrence to bring life into the grand design made itself available, Mae felt it was a wonderful kind of labor. A small second of light and hope that reassured her in the decision to leave home and forge a way into the role in which she’d found herself. 
Running away from home at such a young and fragile age, to escape the organized crime that they so well delighted in leading, for a more noble pursuit wasn’t easy. Finding a way to fund education in rising tensions across the galaxy meant taking a transport ship to the heart of the Republic, and joining the civilian based program which provided aid relief to systems. Gaining training through various deployments to deal with natural disasters, minor planetary scuffles and other smaller incidents lead to proper medical knowledge. But when the war broke out, and suddenly the deployments were accompanying clone troopers into combat, the job turned sour. 
So many friends and colleagues forgoing their duty because they enlisted during a time of peace, not an intergalactic civil war. It left Mae one of the few willing to go into the dangerous situations to help the unfortunate souls who’s homeworlds were being attacked. It also provided a level of seniority, as she was one of the longest running members in the organization.
That seniority is how she ended up on Ryloth. One of the nastiest conflicts during the course of the war, and regretfully the reason the entire relief organization funded by the senate was disbanded. Civilians dying at an alarming rate in combat didn’t look good to politicians apparently. It also didn’t look good in the face of the Jedi who sent her off world after a surprise attack startled their camp. So after months of a deployment residing in Ryloth’s canyons amongst clones and rebels, Mae took the last shuttle off world before things took a particularly nasty turn in the form of a bullet wound in her chest.
Looking back she carried the guilt of being one of the last to see Master Di and his brave clone Commander alive. Learning of their unfortunate end, but extremely valiant stand against the droid army, was what accompanied the discharge notice she’d been served the second Mae had woken up after surgery aboard the Jedi Cruiser. 
Having nowhere to go once she arrived, hardly recovered mind you, to the Republic Capital, she spent time floating about the galaxy until eventually life brought her to the peaceful island of Pabu. The sole doctor on the island and the kind of peaceful life she’d craved since she was a little girl growing up around violent criminals. 
The war never made it out there. Not until the deserters of Clone Force 99 arrived, seeking solitude as she had. And even then, it wasn’t their fault the newly appointed Empire was after their familial unit. Once it was dealt with, through means she never truly had taken the time to question, things returned to normal. 
A small revolving door of clones coming and going as they were rescued from captivity came through her clinic doors, as she helped recover their often aching bones and residual injuries from war, before sending them off to a new life. And yet, through it all, she never got the chance to meet the clone responsible for their rescue. Not the one organizing it at least. 
Aiko had come to the island with Echo - after almost a year of the bad batch settling in with the residents. In fact, Mae had only spoken to him personally a few times, since he was hardly there and not in the stars with his former captain. But once the friendship between herself and the kind empath he called “love” grew, it was only a matter of time before she got to know him better by extension. 
Shared tales of his journey during the war along brief explanations of how she had been in it temporarily before finding solitude in helping ones. All over drinks in the evening of course. And yet, still no Captain making an appearance. Not that it truly would matter. He was a busy man after all. And from what Echo recounted: one of the kindest and bravest he knew. Still, it would be nice to know the man responsible for continuously dumping new patients outside her door. 
As Mae returned to her office, after finally delivering the child, who’s labor took on a long forty three hours of attention, she was ready to clean up and sleep. Yet, the gnawing feeling of having to ask for help crept in. In the midst of the panic she’d allowed Echo, and his Captain to become inconvenienced. And she would likely never be able to thank him beyond expressing it indirectly through Echo. Knowing of the work the two did, and its importance, it only made guilt grow. 
Luckily the clinic was close to the shared home between herself and Aiko. And if she hadn’t been so extremely exhausted, Mae would’ve recognized the laughter before she even reached the door. Slipping inside and tossing her glasses along the table next to the door, the doctor removed her shoes quietly. Murmurs from the kitchen dying out for a second and the noise. 
“Mae, when was the last time you slept hon?” came Aiko’s gasp and soft voice from the kitchen. Not glancing in that direction, her clammy fingers probed at her temple before removing the clip from her hair, enjoying the sensation of her hair flowing free once more. Being tightly wound for so long had caused a tension headache. Aiko hadn’t needed to ask who arrived, feeling the exhaustion rolling off her friend in waves. 
“Fifty-four hours I believe. Unless you count a lothcat nap in my office between contractions, then twenty-one,” Mae said as she rounded the wall into the kitchen. Fingers shaking the bun loose as she realized that she had an audience. 
“She is alive after all.. You can cancel the search party,” Crosshair smirked as he leaned against the counter and teasingly pushed her into the middle of their small circle before once again placing the toothpick into his mouth. 
“Crosshair is only attempting humor, as there was no indicated search party, although I might recommend rest as staying awake for prolonged periods is unhealthy-” Tech began and she shook her head towards him. 
“Thank you for the medical advice Tech. I plan to do just that. I did not know we were hosting tonight-” she said quietly at Aiko who simply looked up sheepishly. 
“Something came up that I hadn’t anticipated, so the others decided to congregate here. But we will keep it down if you need to sleep-” Aiko realized the disruption to her very overworked housemate may not have been the best idea, only to silence that thought at the shaking of Mae’s head. 
“It’s fine really. What’s a few more hours anyways,” Mae paused for a moment before turning towards Tech stopping his interruption before it started, “Unhealthy, I know. I know. But it’s okay I promise. I just can't promise I’ll be my lively self,” she yawned as she heard Crosshair mutter out something along the lines of “thank the maker,” only to be slapped playfully on the shoulder for being rude by Leena’s twin sister Kay. The pair broke out into a teasing spat as she walked towards Aiko and Echo. 
Surveying the room, the majority of their group was there, with only Hunter and Omega missing. Perhaps it was a bit late for the girl. Wrecker and Chori had left Pabu to visit her family, leaving her pup muffin under the care of Leena, who proudly held onto the pet as she spoke with the others. Tech’s arm maintained distance from Muffin, as he so eloquently referred to the mischievous animal as “a missing finger waiting to happen”, while he kept a hold on his wife.
“Do I have time to clean up before this something that came up or-” Mae began, only to have the door slamming open, accompanying Hunter’s shout at Omega to slow down interrupted her questioning. 
“Come on, you have to meet Mae too!” the girl’s voice yelled through the space as everyone turned to examine the blur of movement behind caused by Omega literally pulling the poor man through the living room. At the sound of her name, the doctor turned, only to be met with her cheek pressed against a firm chest. Plastoid armor covered in fact. Which, as one might imagine, doesn't feel great making semi-decent contact with one’s face following hours and hours of delivering a baby. 
“Oops-” Omega said, attempting to back away from the altercation she inevitably caused by shoving the man into the doctor, as the girl had misjudged the distance between them. 
“Oh wow-” 
“Are you alrigh-” 
Came the joined voices of both Mae and the former Captain. In the background, Omega receiving a reprimand from Hunter faded away as the two locked eyes. Hand pressed to her cheek from the dull throbbing underneath, she slowly lowered it as she craned her head to get a look at him.
Tall. Similar face to the others. And yet something so very different entirely. She was used to the standard eyes almost all the clones had, but his own seemed somehow brighter. Crows feet at the corner of his eyes slightly deeper. And obviously light blond hair instead of dark brown cut very short, reminiscing a halo as it deeply contrasted his tanned skin. 
She’d blame it on the lack of sleep if anyone asked, but staring at the poor man hadn’t been the intent. Mae was very familiar with the glorious genetics of Jango Fett, and they were immaculate indeed, but she couldn’t quite put a finger on why he seemed so much more handsome than the others. 
As for Rex, he was finally able to see the doctor in real life instead of just in a poor image quality of their ship's transmitter. Red. Her hair was bright red. Not in an unnatural shade like he so often saw on women planet side or occasionally on his brothers. But a natural, warm tint. She was extremely pale despite the pink shade of her cheeks. The missing details meshed so wonderfully from the poor image he had in his mind, now seeing her in the flesh. It also brought out the horrible realization that she was in fact, much prettier than he realized. 
“That looks like it's going to leave a mark” Echo jokingly called out, the attention drawing from them as he stood with Aiko just to their side. At his acknowledgement Rex once again looked down and sure enough, right at the top of her cheekbone was already forming a small shinner.
“Kriff, I am so sorry,” he replied as his honey eyes moved back towards her own, noting the unreadable expression in her pale eyes. 
“It’s definitely not the worst blow I’ve ever been dealt, no need to apologize, soldier-” she tried to laugh it off, as she looked to Aiko and Echo for an introduction. Assuming him to be another rescued soldier passing through, she was surprised as Echo put a hand on his shoulder and turned to her with an explanation. 
“Mae, this is my old Captain from my 501 days. Rex, this is Mae-” As he introduced the pair, she suddenly felt as if she would dissolve on spot. Not only had she slammed her face into some man’s chest, but that man was Echo’s good friend. The one he worked with to rescue other clones. The one who’d saved his life from the Separatists. The same one she’d allowed to be inconvenienced on her behalf earlier in the day. 
“Pleasure to finally meet you ma’am-” he stuck out a hand and she simply froze, staring at the outstretched digits covered by black gloves. The gentle nudge from Aiko forced her hand out as well, watching as it was dwarfed by his own in a firm handshake. 
“You as well. Thank you again for making a pitstop on the way here. I hope it wasn’t too much of an inconvenience-” she began only to have him slip his hand from her own with a chuckle. 
“Not at all. Happy to help,” he gave her a polite nod. 
“We were going to go to the square for some drinks, if you are feeling up to it that is-” Aiko offered and Mae thought about it. As nice as it all sounded, finally washing up seemed more appealing. 
“I might go clean up. I can’t imagine I look fantastic. And if I am still standing by some miracle I can meet you all there,” she offered, eyes glancing back at Rex to see his reaction. If she didn’t know any better he almost looked disappointed. 
“I may actually do the same back on the ship-” Rex spoke only to have Echo shake his head.
“You can take ours. No need to make the track down the island for the fresher.” He pointed towards Aiko’s room, knowing that it had a separate shower stall. He hadn't been allowed time to use it as Hunter and Omega had drug him around the island to meet the others and catch up. 
“Alright, I guess we both will join you in a bit then,” he looked between Aiko and Echo before turning back towards her. In the background slowly the group was wrangled, Omega calling a cheerful apology at the conclusion of Hunter’s disgruntled conversation. Soon the room filled out, leaving the very silent and uncertain pair. The sliding shut of the front door ignited them both to speak at the same time.
“Do you-” 
“I am real-” 
Both of them grew wide eyed, pausing immediately as if to query who would continue their sentence. Asserting herself more this time, Mae let out a humored puff of air before saying, “you first.” 
Promptly the man shook his head, “No I insist,” gesturing with his hand as if he could pull the words from her mouth simply by shrugging. 
“I was just asking if you needed anything. I was going to grab some towels from the linen closet, but I wasn’t sure if you needed something. We keep quite a bit of spare clothes here since any troopers Echo brings through come through my home,” Mae explained as she reached a slight protrusion on the wall, swinging it open and stepping back for him to look inside. Rex stared into its contents surprised as his eyes examined the supply closet. Nothing fancy, just some spare clothes, toiletries and other assorted items, but the knowledge that they were dedicated for his brothers as they made their way from the places he picked them up in, and onto their new lives, made him feel delighted to know that this sweet doctor was taking care of them along the way. 
“Oh, that’s uh-” he began, cheeks warm as his eyes glanced at its contents, suddenly overwhelmed by it all. 
“Take your time, I’ll go grab a towel,” she responded with a slight bow of the head and soft footfalls down the hall. Rex couldn’t help but watch the way she moved so easily throughout the space. I suppose there is an ease when it is one’s home, but that comfortability came in the form of swaying hips and light steps until she faded from view. 
Shaking his head and simply grabbed a bar of soap and a change of clothes as he waited for her to come back. Rex figured leaving more for others was smart. Her prompt return was accompanied by a smile and passing off of a simple white towel, and an outstretched hand pointing him in the direction of Echo and Aiko’s shared room. He hadn’t meant to zone her out as she explained how to work the refresher, but something about her exhausted tone made him almost concerned. 
“Holler if you need something hon-” Mae told him as she promptly shifted away and walked back to what he assumed was her own space. Trudging towards the room, he closed the door before shucking off the armor he’d had for many years now. Practiced hands undoing all the latches with ease as he set them on the floor before reaching over the back of his neck to grab the top of the black body glove. 
Panicking, only for a moment as he tried to recall exactly how to turn on the water, he eventually figured it out. Not after allowing the cool air to caress his bare body until goosebumps appeared, he finally got it working and stepped under the warm stream. Rex couldn’t recall the last time he’d actually had hot water. Lukewarm at best was what he now considered a luxury, but this was heaven for the man. Soothing aching joints and tense shoulders. Running over the top of his head and down his back as he sighed. 
And still, there was something almost selfish about indulging in it. So the relief turned into ‘how quickly can I wrap this up’ and before long he was drying off and getting dressed. That’s when another unusual sensation presented itself. He couldn’t remember the last time he wore civilian clothing. Especially any not intended at least for minor protection. To just slide a simple cotton shirt over his body was… odd. 
Returning to the living space, clean and without the stiff armor donning his body, he found it empty. Water in the other room was still running as he heard the occasional hum carrying through the walls. Uncertain if he should wait to see if she’d join or if she was immediately going to collapse into the covers - not that he’d blame her since delivering a baby naturally always seemed like a lot of work. Rex carefully padded around the space taking in the various artifacts. 
Some house plants, miscellaneous paintings that seemingly looked like they were done by an artist on the island, and collected items from travels. He could see elements of Echo’s minimal presence - such as his meager belongings from being an Arc Trooper, as well as memento’s from Aiko’s home world. Yet, worn white and maroon plastoid caught his attention. 
Coming closer to the small shelf he was surprised to see a single shoulder pad, decorated maroon with markings he recognized. The 501 spent their time on Ryloth breaking the blockade after the initial forces had been killed, while other divisions were on the ground. Howser didn’t speak much about the legion who’d been there before, but Rex was aware of the fate met by the 303 and their Jedi leader.  
Next to the shoulder armor lay a small photo frame and when he touched the on button he was surprised to see that it belonged to Mae, not Aiko or Echo. The small woman wormed between some of the troopers with a worn smile and the standard uniform of the Republic Aid Relief. Albeit, she looked dirty and half starved, but still incredibly beautiful. 
Having been so long since he’d crossed paths with any of them, since the senate disbanded them early in the war, he’d nearly forgotten them. Last he remembered hearing was Wolffe’s complaints about having to take over their responsibilities after a natural disaster on a planet occupied by strange alien reptiles. If his mind served him, it was Ryloth’s failed first invasion that caused the Senate to dissolve the RAR contracts. And if the 303 was the original clone legion assigned to Ryloth that would mean… 
“I like to think that it is important to remember those who have fallen. Even if the war is over,” came the quiet hum behind him. Immediately dropping the photo display tablet, Rex looked at her with guilt at being caught snooping. 
“I shouldn’t have-” he began to apologize only to pause at the waive of her hand. 
“If I wished for it to remain private I would have left it in my own quarters or stored away.  I do not hold my past like a well guarded secret after all,” Mae explained as she bent down to retrieve the tablet and set it once again on the shelf, allowing it to showcase the image of her amongst the clones and Twi’lek rebels. 
“You were in the RAR,” he said, phrasing it as a statement instead of a fact, eyes glancing back down at her features. Hair still damp from the shower, mark on her cheek turning a deeper shade of red as the bruising set in.  She looked positively worn out from the difficult few days with lack of sleep, but still her eyes contained a light he wouldn’t expect from someone who was a civilian who’d braved one of the nastiest battles of the clone wars. 
“I was,” she said simply, eyes finally tearing away from the memorial and looking at him. He too looked positively exhausted. 
“I had no idea,” he said simply. In all honesty, there was no reason for him to have ideas of her past. They were not friends. They had simply met. Furthermore, their only connection stemmed from mutual acquaintances.  He was not entitled to such information about pretty doctors who he didn’t know. And yet, the knowledge that she’d been there, the thick of it by choice, meant something. It showed an unexpected courage and strength he wouldn’t have imagined to reside in such a small and almost mousey woman. 
“I would’ve stuck around too, but the second I got out of surgery they tossed discharge papers and said we were no longer needed,” she hummed out almost guilty. 
“Surgery?” he asked, knowing full well that Ryloth at that point did not have sterile environments for such intense care. 
“I got the last shuttle off world before the blockade went up. Surprise attack. Took a shot to the chest,” Mae explained, fingers delicately pulling down the simple shirt she wore to show the pale white scar right at the top of the valley between her breasts. The sudden flash of skin surprised him and he looked away, blush atop his tanned cheeks. Unable to stop the hand from reaching up to the back of his neck he looked away momentarily as she righted the material back down to cover herself. 
“Want to know the worst part of it all?” she hummed out almost sadly as his golden eyes once again returned to her face with a raised brow. “They just shoved us all into that situation. And we made the best of it, but in the early days we weren’t given the choice. When enough people complained they enlisted during peace times and war was a different thing, they allowed whoever wanted out the choice.  Only a few of us actually stuck around to see it through. Yet, when things got bad, they still tossed us all to the side and told us we weren’t needed anymore. I would’ve stayed. I wanted to stay. I-” she abruptly stopped ranting for a moment when she noticed he’d grown wide eyed at her outburst. “I am sorry, it was so long ago, being angry about it now doesn’t help,” 
“No, I understand. More than most would actually,” he tried to reassure her, but in order to do so, he would need to unlock that part of his brain he kept under lock. The sadness of losing brothers. The guilt of being the one to carry on. The feeling he wasn’t doing enough. 
“Survivors' guilt is a nasty plague. I’m a doctor. I am well aware how debilitating it can be. Almost every trooper who comes through my clinic door has it, and I feel like such a hypocrite telling them they need to manifest it into something productive. Not when I carry my own,” the woman said, turning away from him to simply sit on the sofa. The rising guilt and lack of sleep made her feel almost faint for a moment. Rex watched her sit down, hands shifting in her lap as she refused eye contact. 
He felt responsible. Not necessarily for the root of her pain, but definitely for bringing it back up to the surface. Stepping towards her with cautious footsteps, he eventually lowered himself onto a knee in front of the sofa, pausing as he didn’t want to startle her or invade her space too much. He knew how to remove soldiers from shell shock. He’d done it countless times. He’d been there to help them try to put back together the pieces after battles. But that didn’t mean he knew how to handle a civilian. Especially when he also never let the walls down, and felt the need to keep them up, as she seemed to. So instead he took a different direction.
“Thank you,” he told her simply, laying a hand atop her own to give it a reassuring squeeze. 
Having anticipated another one of those bland, “you did all you could” or “you aren’t alone” phrases she’d heard a thousand times, her eyes snapped to his own in shock. 
“For what?” she asked him almost timidly. 
“For actually putting up with all of us. I know I can’t speak for all of us on principle but to be cared for by someone who doesn’t have to be kind, who doesn’t have to be gentle, and who actually sees us as individuals, it means a lot. All I ever hoped for was to know that my brothers could get their freedom, and start to live the life they wanted. I didn’t realize how much Echo was allowing our burden to fall to you,” he explained to her. 
“It’s not really a burden per say,” she explained and he gave her a reassuring chuckle. 
“I know my brothers better than anyone. Trust me. It’s a task to keep them in line,” Rex smiled at the way she snickered. 
“Then might I inquire…” she leaned in as if she was going to ask a deep kept secret. And surprisingly Rex allowed it, moving his head to the side so that she could whisper her response. “Does that mean the inherent stubbornness is genetically wired into you all, or is it taught?”  
When Rex pulled back he saw the grin along her lips and the mischief in her wide eyes. Up close they looked more blue than the grayish hue they held at a distance.  Still, the acknowledgement of eye color didn’t stop him from feeling warmth in his chest from her joke. Well that and the way she was looking at him. 
Unable to stop the way he barked out a loud laugh at the jest while removing himself from the floor to take a seat on the furniture next to her. As much as he knew the others were anticipating him, he wasn’t exactly ready to leave. Especially since she appeared to be running out of energy. Leaning his head back to rest along the back of the sofa he sighed while closing his eyes for a moment. 
Silence often unnerved him. It often predated enemy strikes as right before things got nasty, they usually went dead silent. So that association between calm drilled into his bones, it was odd he found the beat of comfortability lingering in the space to be surprising, however not unwelcome. It was nice to just take a moment to be, instead of focusing on what came next. Especially when he felt the shift along the back of the couch next to him. 
Eyes opening at the shift, he looked over to see Mae had mirrored his movement, her head resting only a few inches from his own as her eyes remained closed. Soft breaths coming out past her lips every few seconds as the tension in her brow finally relaxed after the moment of understanding they had. It made the soldier realize that sometimes you didn’t have to vocalize to still feel connection.  That on occasion you’d meet people who just simply recognize the unexplainable parts of yourself.  And that was such a beautiful discovery for the man as he closed his eyes once more in the still, softness of Pabu. 
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.
“I highly doubt Rex would slip away without saying goodbye, especially since he agreed to stay a few days, Love,” Aiko said as her and Echo walked back towards the house. It hadn’t been long before the others realized that Rex and Mae never joined them, prompting the pair to slip away to find the missing soldier and doctor. 
“I’d like to agree but Rex can be… very driven by his sense of duty that it blinds him to pleasantries,” Echo mentioned as they stepped up on the front porch, opening the door to find the lights dimmed but not completely shut off like they’d left it. His eyes quickly saw the illuminated screen of Mae’s Ryloth memorial while Aiko gasp and pointed in the direction of the sofa. And when Echo followed his lover’s finger he almost couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped his throat, doing his best to suppress it quietly. 
Sitting side by side and in deep sleep came the picturesque scene of both Rex and Mae. His head leaning against the back of the couch, with legs stretched out in front of him. The soft snores escaped his nose as it became obvious that Echo and Aiko’s entry hadn’t woken him. All the while Mae had slumped over, her head resting along his shoulder as she too slept, seemingly unaware of both her position and the fact that they now had an audience. 
“Well that's… unexpected,” he said quietly before gesturing to the door. Aiko followed him as she took one last look at their sleeping form and said nothing. Her smile speaking enough on its own. If the Empath knew one thing, it was that finding peace in the midst of all this chaos was a blessing.
To be continued...
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duckprintspress · 9 months
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What are a bunch of writers if not a huge collection of nerds who love words? So we at Duck Prints Press thought we'd celebrate National Word Nerd Day to share some words we love!! Seventeen of our authors contributed to this list, many offering up multiple favorites cause dang it we just love words that much! Definitions are from Merriam-Webster unless otherwise specified.
hurkle-durkle. scottish; to lounge in bed long after it’s time to get up
认床 [rèn chuáng]. (chinese) the feeling of having difficulty sleeping in a bed other than one’s own (definition from duchinese)
ubiquitous. existing or being everywhere at the same time: constantly encountered
plaudit. an act or round of applause
bubkes. the least amount; nothing
vituperative. uttering or given to censure: containing or characterized by verbal abuse
lugubrious. exaggeratedly or affectedly mournful
antithetical. being in direct and unequivocal opposition: directly opposite or opposed
consanguineous. of the same blood or origin – specifically: descended from the same ancestor
nacreous. possessing the qualities of, consisting of, or abounding in nacre; iridescent
pareidolia. the tendency to perceive a specific, often meaningful image in a random or ambiguous visual pattern
defenestrate. a throwing of a person or thing out of a window; a usually swift dismissal or expulsion (as from a political party or office)
petrichor. a distinctive, earthy, usually pleasant odor that is associated with rainfall especially when following a warm, dry period and that arises from a combination of volatile plant oils and geosmin released from the soil into the air and by ozone carried by downdrafts
sanguine. marked by eager hopefulness: confidently optimistic; consisting of or relating to blood
hydrochlorothiazide. a diuretic and antihypertensive drug
eyjafjallajökull. a volcano in Iceland (source: wikipedia)
vestigial. remaining as the last small part of something that existed before
gloaming. the fall of the evening as the time of dusk or gloom; the twilight (source: wordnik)
insouciant. lighthearted unconcern, nonchalance
squamates. any of an order (squamata) of reptiles including the snakes and lizards and related extinct forms
flabbergasted. feeling or showing intense shock, surprise, or wonder: utterly astonished
rapscallion. a person who causes trouble, rascal
fiddlesticks. something of little value, trifle
liminal. of, relating to, or situated at a sensory threshold: barely perceptible or capable of eliciting a response
ipsedixitism. dogmatic assertion or assertiveness
flibbertigibbet. a silly flighty person
oscillating. to swing backward and forward like a pendulum; to vary between opposing beliefs, feelings, or theories
fomite. an object that may be contaminated with infectious agents and serve in their transmission
sequelae. an aftereffect of a disease, condition, or injury
susurrus. a whispering or rustling sound
ascetic. practicing strict self-denial as a measure of personal and especially spiritual discipline; austere in appearance, manner, or attitude
時々 [tokidoki]. japanese; sometimes (source: wictionary)
sequelae. an aftereffect of a disease, condition, or injury
onomatopoeia. the naming of a thing or action by a vocal imitation of the sound associated with it
bodzermoggl. (franconian) pinecone (definition provided by neo scarlett)
petrodraconic. a word created by australian rock band king gizzard & the lizard wizard (source: wikipedia)
What are YOUR favorite words? Tell us in the tags or comments!
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breakfastteatime · 1 year
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Today's fic is for @wigglewigglewigglenot who requested 'Family'.
Greez hears Cal bound aboard, BD whistling in the way that Greez always translates to ‘honey, I’m home!’ “Cal, BD, good timing. I’m about to start chopping up the veg for tonight’s stir fry. Wash up and –” A foul stench billows over Greez. Dropping his knife, he looks up from the galley table and stares at Cal. “What in all the hells happened to you?”
Cal grins from under a thick, muddy coating. “I threw some stormtroopers around for a while in a swamp.”
“Did you get in the swamp with them?”
“No,” Cal says. BD makes a sound that sounds very disagreeable. Cal stares at his friend. “No, I didn’t. It doesn’t count if a whole bunch of grenades explode after they’ve sunk into the mud and shower you with swamp juice.”
“Whatever, Cal, just get in the shower, burn everything you’re wearing and clean up so you can help out.” Greez glances at BD. “You too, BD.”
BD whistles and takes off. Cal sighs and follows him. A few moments later, Greez hears the ‘fresher door open and close, followed by the sound of the water shower starting up.
Cere emerges from the cockpit next, stretching out her limbs after hours of decrypting Imperial transmissions and tangling them all up so no one could talk to each other. She catches a whiff of ‘Odour of Kestis’ and immediately joins Greez in the galley, seeking out one of their emergency candles. “His sense of smell must be impaired after all that time on Bracca,” she mutters. Once the candle’s lit, she glances at what Greez is doing. “Stir fry? Excellent. Can I do anything?”
“Sure. You can get the hell out of my kitchen before something explodes because it’s in your presence and you scared it.”
“I am not that bad!” Cere protests.
“Hah!” Greez doesn’t trust Cere in a kitchen with something more complicated than a teapot or a caf maker any more than he trusts himself with Cal’s lightsaber. “Just go sit in the lounge and think happy food thoughts.”
“I think I’ll take the time to meditate,” Cere says, heading for her cabin. “I’ll send Merrin.”
By the time Merrin appears, Greez has the vegetables chopped, the pan heated, and everything ready to fry. “You are not adding scazz?” Merrin asks, peering over Greez’s shoulder.
“I know you like it, but scazz doesn’t actually go with everything, Merrin,” Greez says. No, what he needs is a few spices, a little extra soy for the noodles, some ginger to add a kick…
“I want scazz,” Merrin said. “I shall prepare it myself.”
Greez knows he’s not going to win a fight with her. “Fine. There’s some in the fridge. Make sure you use the knife with the red handle, that’s the one that’s sharp enough. You can cook it up yourself.”
“Why? You do it so much better than I do,” Merrin says as she gets the meat, knife and chopping block.
“You’ll never learn if I always do it,” Greez tells her.
Merrin stares at him.
“Fine, fine, I’ll cook it. Make enough for everyone.” Greez says that, knowing full well only Merrin will have any unless Cal’s feeling particularly irritating tonight.
The rhythmic sound of Merrin’s chopping provides the beat for Greez’s whistling. He drops the noodles in a pan while prepping another for Merrin’s meat. She carries it over on the chopping board when she’s done and waits for Greez’s nod to add it to the pan. It crackles and hisses. Merrin closes her eyes and inhales.
“Excellent,” she says. “Remember, I like it rare.”
“It’ll still be bleeding, don’t you worry,” Greez says.
Content, Merrin heads to the lounge. Greez lets her go because he hears Cal and BD returning. Both are clean and fresh, so Greez orders them to set the table. “With your hands, please,” he adds. “The last time you used the Force to do it, I lost a perfectly good set of plates.”
“How is it my fault Merrin distracted me?” Cal shoots a glare in her direction.
“Jedi training is clearly inferior,” she replies without looking up from the datapad she’s looking at. “A Nightsister would not be so distractable.”
“Wanna find out?” Cal fires back.
“Children,” Greez warns.
Cal sighs and wipes down the table while BD nudges placemats around with his head. Happy that Cal isn’t about to push and/or pull anything, Greez begins dishing up. He puts the scazz chunks in a serving bowl so at least the others can pretend like they want some. Cal dutifully puts the bowls out, chuckling to himself when he picks up Cere’s. He does that sometimes, catches onto things no one expected to leave behind. If he’s not sharing, Greez ain’t asking. He's learned to temper that curiosity. Cal is very polite about accidentally learning people’s secrets. Unless it benefits him some way. Or if the secret is so hilarious, he can’t contain himself. Greez may never live down that whole ‘Phixy’s Midnight Runner’s debacle down.
“Merrin, would you tell Cere it’s dinner time?” Greez asks as he shuts off the hobs and grabs the muja juice out of the fridge.
“Of course.” Merrin disappears in a twirl of green magick.
“Show off,” Greez mutters.
BD and Cal take their usual places. Merrin and Cere appear moments later. Greez takes his seat.
“This looks so good,” Cal says. “Thanks, Greez.”
“You’re welcome,” he says. It’s the least he can do, keeping everyone fed. He reaches for his fork. “Enjoy everyone.”
They all dig in, BD-1 watching with the same amount of interest the very first time he was allowed to sit at the table. Greez sits back and watches them all, smiling as they chat and laugh.
Yeah, he’s a lucky guy. Maybe he hasn’t settled down the way his great grandma would’ve wanted, but he’s still got people who matter more than anything, people who need him… He just never expected his best friend and his two kids to all have superpowers, or for a little droid to become an essential presence in his life.
Greez knows a good hand when he’s holding it.
(Pssst – The Phixy’s Midnight Runners minific for those who may have missed it. It’s an oldie but a favourite of mine)
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My love!! I am so so so proud of you and your follower milestone, well done, you deserve it so much 🥺
Could I (here comes a surprise) please request comfort with Crosshair? On the back of our earlier conversation about how loyal and protective and caring he’d be to his loved one, I am dying to see how you do it, especially knowing how gorgeously you write all the Clones 🥰(you know my struggle over who to pick)
Again, I am so proud of you!!!✨
Thank you beautiful, 🥹 for sending this in, for supporting me and listening to me ramble for hours about our boys and opening my eyes to the clone that is Crosshair!
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Warnings: Mention of O66, nightmares, established relationship if you squint, mention of canon violence. 18+ but no actual smut.
A/N: I'm gonna brave posting this and hope it shows up properly!
Word Count: 1.8k+
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Your hands were flat on the ground, fingers spread to accommodate the grass stalks that poked between them. Inhaling deeply through your nose meant you could smell the freshness of the air, nothing could beat it. Being in space for long periods of time stifled your connection to the Living Force so whenever the ship landed the first thing you did was go out and touch life.
Wrecker made jokes, granting him an exasperated stare from Echo, Tech just left you to it and sometimes Hunter would watch you with curiosity lighting his gaze.
You had done a few missions with the Bad Batch now, which was always an experience. You enjoyed the squads company and their unorthodox way of doing things, it spoke to your hidden reckless nature.
A small smile graced your lips, even with your eyes shut you could tell who was before you, blocking out the sun that had been warming your skin.
“Touching grass, again?” He drawled. “You’re as bad as Hunter.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” a small smile accompanied your reply.
“Don’t.” Crosshair moved to the side, setting himself down against a tree to do maintenance on his rifle. Usually such noise would distract from your meditation but you took comfort in the sounds of his rifle coming apart. The meticulous way he laid the pieces out, cleaning it the same way every, single, time.
You weren’t sure what to call you and Crosshair. Incidents had happened, moments in the dark away from the Marauder with the whispered rules of no attachments. No strings, no feelings. It was the Jedi way. Maybe there was no label, there shouldn’t be.
“General. You’ve got a transmission.” Opening your eyes your hands retracted from the ground, exhaling as you did. Rising up you turned and headed back to the ship.
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Crosshair waited for you to saunter past before he looked at you, pulling his gaze away from the barrel of his rifle to watch you mount the steps of the Marauder and disappear inside. You were everything, strong, fearless…and untouchable.
A Jedi.
You’d been the first human female he’d ever come across, your lightsabers cutting through the hostiles and literally exploding into his life. He had tried to ignore the way you made him feel by ignoring you completely but his brothers had noticed his change in behaviour very quickly. You were the only General he hadn’t insulted behind their back or to their face.
Wrecker, for all his stupidity, had been the first one to notice. Loudly pointing it out with a firm nudge to Crosshair’s shoulder that nearly caused him to topple over. You’d only been a few paces away at the time, hands clasped behind your back as you conversed with General Skywalker and General Kenobi. You’d thrown a glance back in the clone's direction before leaving, but Crosshair had committed that look to his memory.
The next time he saw you was in the hold of the Marauder, a bag slung onto your back, your Jedi armour clean and flawless. There had been a moment, charged and nameless as you both regarded one another only for it to be dispersed by the arrival of the rest of the squad.
Each mission you had done with them solidified that feeling in Crosshair’s chest. The quickening of his heart, the roar of his pulse inside his helmet and the lurch of his stomach whenever you put yourself in harms way.
Eventually he admitted, only to himself, what this was.
He wanted you.
He wanted to run his fingers through your hair, to touch the smoothness of your skin and taste the perfection that were your lips.
You’d approached him one night, in the light of some random moon that made you glow like an ethereal being. He tried to keep his feelings in check but your other senses finally worked him out and you looked at him like no one else ever had.
He got to run his fingers through your hair, he did touch the smoothness of your skin and taste your lips. The next encounter he got to experience your hot breath on his face, to hear the small whimpers he pulled from you as you leaned back in his arms.
You were intoxicating.
Every time he saw you it was like he was peering over the edge of a cliff into oblivion. It was dangerous, so you’d both agreed no feelings, no attachments and he’d never felt anything so deflating before. Also, it made him want you more.
Then the dreams started. Nightmares so vivid he woke up with a shout. They ripped through him every night and he hated them.
Now, whenever he held his rifle he could see you down the sight, his rangefinder zoomed into your heat signature. Finger pressing the trigger as he repeated, good soldiers follow orders, in his mind over and over again until he felt like he was going mad.
He hadn’t told anyone about them, his brothers would think him weak or realise he’d overstepped the mark and broken the rules with a Jedi. Their friend.
Finishing with his rifle he clipped it all back together, putting his frustrations into every firm click. Hopefully taking out some clankers would erase these emotions. But he doubted it.
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Crosshair was very quiet, more melancholy than usual on the way back to the ship. His weapon resting on his shoulder, gaze on the ground as he walked. You were exhausted from the fight, your energy levels were low but still you could feel his presence and it was in turmoil.
You wished you could talk to him but with the rest of the squad here you knew he wouldn’t utter a word unless it was a scathing retort.
Wrecker was recounting the battle, using his large hands when he explained the explosion he had created. Tech tried to tell him you had all seen it but Wrecker continued anyway. His exuberance covered the hidden tension and you were grateful for it, Hunter you witnessed side eyed his stoic brother but chose not to draw attention to his dark mood.
The squad relaxed in the Marauder, packs and weapons set down with exaggerated sighs. Another mission done, onto the next. It didn’t escape your notice that Crosshair had slipped silently into a bunk, his back to everyone.
You went to sit in the cockpit, letting your eyes lose focus as you watched hyperspace glide past you in an array of flickering lights. It really was beautiful, easily lulling you to sleep in the chair behind Tech.
You weren’t sure what woke you. The ship was still steadily travelling in the hyperspace lane, no proximity warnings were going off and yet you felt disjointed. Tech and Echo were asleep on their chairs, Tech snoring softly. You got up and stretched, entering the hold to find Hunter spread on the chair by the console, arms down by his sides and legs relaxed. Wrecker was in the gunner's chair, his heavy breathing telling you he was also asleep.
A noise made you turn to see Crosshair was still on the bunk. He was restless, a deep frown furrowed his brow, his eyes twitching under the lids. His lips were moving, muttering something you couldn’t make out and you moved closer.
Reaching out, you gently brushed your fingers through his short grey hair, hoping the motion would calm him but it seemed to make him more agitated. Breathing deeply you set a hand on his chest plate, concentrating and reaching into his Force signature.
You weren’t prepared for what you saw. He was dreaming of battle. The whole squad was there, even you. It amazed you, how he saw you. It took a moment before you recognised yourself, but it was definitely you sighted down the scope of his rifle. You could feel his conflict, the pain of his feelings for you being ripped apart by something so much more overpowering and dangerous.
Good soldiers follow orders… The phrase he was repeating became clear and you gasped when the rifle fired.
Pulling yourself free of his dream you felt something on your wrist only to find Crosshair glaring up at you in the dim light of the hold.
You stared at each other, terrified breaths filling the quiet space while coming to terms with what you had just seen. Slowly Crosshair moved, his hand still holding your wrist in case you tried to get away.
“For how long?” You whispered. His gaze drifted to the side, mouth turning down in disgust at himself.
“Months.” Falling to your knees you gazed up at him.
“I know you wouldn’t.” Gently you lay a hand on the side of his face, watching the way his eyes closed and he leaned heavily into your delicate touch.
“I don’t want to have these anymore,” he admitted quietly. “Nightmares.” He took a breath, opening his beautiful rich brown eyes and magnetising to yours. “They hurt.” The break in his voice had you surging into his arms, wrapping your own around his neck and burying your face into him. At first he hesitated, arms out to the side but he couldn’t resist the feel of you for long.
Gathering you to him he dragged you into the bunk, laying you across his body and holding you close and tight. He wanted to remember this, the scent of you, the way you felt over him; if he could imprint you onto his very skin, he would. Burying his fingers in your hair he sought your lips for comfort, something you were only too willing to provide.
The pain of this recurring nightmare made his face scrunch up with anguish, even now he could feel something in his mind that he didn’t want. Not even you could erase the damage it was causing.
He took what he could from you, kissing you until your lips were swollen, until his fingertips couldn’t bury anymore into your robes. He wanted more, so much more but not here.
“Don’t stop on my account,” Hunter muttered in the dark, making you both freeze.
“Oh, great,” Crosshair sighed, his hands falling away from you.
“Fine,” you retorted. “We won’t.” To Crosshair’s surprise you settled beside him in the bunk and he turned onto his side so he could look at you.
He let you trace his tattoo, enjoying the way your fingers felt against his skin and he actually began to relax. Exhaling softly when your touch drifted over his cheek and across his lips. You were beautiful in every sense of the word and he couldn’t believe you were here, with him.
He copied you. Letting his own fingers trace patterns on your skin, brushing strands of hair away and ghosting over the perfect slope of your nose. He marvelled at the expression change on your features, the way your eyes fluttered closed and you snuggled closer to him. He threw an arm over you, bringing you even closer.
Change was coming and it was going to be catastrophic.
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